By Jon Baggie
Not even two years. That’s how long we have been supporting the Ottawa Fury, NASL version. It feels like a lot longer.
It’s something supporterdom does to you. It draws you in, slows time down and takes control of your emotion.
Maybe it’s relative; thinking about and investing in the club happens all the time. Match days don’t.
It really makes it something… Transcendent.
You miss it. Yet it’s always there, in the back of your mind – the anticipation.
Anticipation for the next fix, the next time you’ll sing your heart out, leaving it all in the stands as the players intend to leave it on the field.
It’s like that TV program where you’ve come to know all the characters. When it finally ends, no matter the result, it feels like something is lost.
So we, the supporters, grind on.
It’s a labour of love. Particularly for a new team, in a fickle city. We worry when attendance isn’t what it could be. We feel the victories of our team, appreciate when they’ve played well but didn’t get the result. We support. No matter what.
All the organizing. The politics. They mean nothing when we step in to the W.
The moments in the stadium can become a strange combination of intense focus and blurry recollection. The breath holding… The intense awareness of what is happening. It feels like our nerves run under the pitch and through the stadium.
There is so much noise… We are the prime creators of it. But on the inside, it’s intensely quiet.
I get goosebumps thinking about it. You know it’s about to happen, like when you can sense it’s about to storm. Stuff that in to a millisecond.
Then the thunder.
That moment, that celebration… is everything.
Until then, we grind on.