I’ll put this to rest right now.

I’m not new to football – soccer – whichever you call it. I’m not. I have always been a fan of football, inexplicably, since I was a child. I grew up in America with the mixed values of a Muslim-Caribbean-Euro mindset. In the sense that I went to school with a bunch of Americanos and picked up their culture, I grew up listening to Country, I grew up with Cricket as the sport my parents played, and I ate Caribe food.

The football thing was always kind of a mystery in the sense of ‘where did that come from?’ Well, I suppose it may have even started with David Beckham. Afterall, my favourite team when I started caring about football was Manchester United. When I was born, David was already playing for them.

Of course, he only played with them for around…four or so years, which means when the football thing started I was… six when I became a football fan. Six years old people. That’s eleven years ago.

So, no, this football thing? It isn’t new.

In 2003, David was traded to Real Madrid and I didn’t have the capacity at the age of ten to look up games on the internet to watch. Or, I did, we just didn’t get Internet or Cable until I was literally like, 13. My football thing became less and less apparent.

I mean, if David’s not on Manchester United, what else do I really have on there?

Cristiano Ronaldo. Three years go past, I still mess around with the footy in the backyard, try to kick it from different angles through the wooden structure that was the swing set. And the World cup starts, I’m in seventh grade, and there’s this guy in my class that loves football as much as I used to.

And I become inspired again. I’d followed footy enough to know that the person to love was Cristiano. His skills, his talent, his drive. It almost made up for David not even being there anymore. But my team to root for was England, all the way. My love for Gerrard, Owen, Hargreaves, J. Cole, and even A. Cole at the moment was intense. They were the team I needed to win.

My locker sat adorned with the pictures of Cristiano Ronaldo, Steven Gerrard, David Beckham, and more Cristiano.

I remember sitting in my Spanish class, Ms. Reyes, the teacher, putting on the game, and everyone settling in their seats as we watched the footballers find their place on the pitch. It didn’t bother me too much when England lost, for the sheer sake of – a) I was 13 and just finished seventh grade. and b) everyone I knew was either rooting for France or Italy.

Ace and Waffy were rooting for Italy, in their minds, not because of the awesomeness that is football, but because they thought the team was hot. The men at my church were all rooting for France for Zidane, because he was a Muslim.

It was pretty epic, when we got to the final and it was France against Italy and it all started boiling down to this one point… and then France was cheated and Italy won. Accept, if your victory isn’t truly won fairly, is it truly a victory?

The World Cup of ’06 ended, the footy nets at church disappeared, and everything went back to normal. My wallet that had no money housed three images – David Beckham, Michael Owen, and James Lafferty. In the ’06 World Cup, Michael Owen was injured and afterwards never played for the English team again.

On the last day of middle school I signed up to join the football team for my school. July 23, 2007 was the day I turned in my slips and was added to the roster.

In ’08, Hargreaves was injured. In ’08 I was part of Senora Lopez’ spanish class, where I sat beside Justin and Grace on his other side, immersed in the love-fest for Fernando Torres that slightly scared me from loving the man myself.

How could I be so crazy?

08-09 boiled into “OH MY GOD, did you see the game?” And me being confused because they were all Liverpool fans and I only ever followed Manchester United scores and I hadn’t seen a game in centuries.

And then 09-10 finally got me to fall more in love with Fernando and, subtly, Liverpool. The fact that I no longer sat near Justin, who loved Fernando with such scary passion helped. I think I didn’t want to like Fernando so much because he loved him so much.

So it was finally when I admitted and then let my love for Fernando grow that things began to change. I admitted also to liking Liverpool. My fandom was started to shift. I even started following the Prem League more religiously – and then 2010 began.

We’d been waiting for this for so long, the people I knew and myself. The World Cup was back! Thank God, we’d missed it so much.

I was a die-hard Spain fan. Non-rooting for any other teams (except for, miserably, England.) And I supported them from day one. To the point where I wanted to refuse to watch any other games. But of course I didn’t. I enjoyed, so much, spending Fridays with my cousin at my grandmothers house and watching the games.

I mean, I spent a load of time having defend Fernando. I mean, come on people. The man had surgery in April, did you expect him to be all bad-a straight off the bat? I didn’t, people need time to get back into the grove, and I am telling you right now he has.

Proof, also being the fact that I am watching the Spain versus Liechtenstein game right now and he just scored. Twice. Along with my boo’s David Villa and David Silva. So, he’s got the magic.

After the world cup ended and I still followed. Watching every Liverpool game to date. Watching Spain games. I was even going to watch the U21 Spain game, but had to help cook at church.

So, if that wasn’t evidence enough that I’m not a newbie, then I don’t know what would suffice.

I mean, I never had a twitter before, so you can’t say I wasn’t as into it as before. So now, I’m just this epic Spain, Liverpool, Man United, Barcelona, Sevilla, Atletico, and Real Madrid fan. Wanna sue me? I’ll give you my number.

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