So, the Al Hilal SFC vs Esteghlal F.C. match. Yeah, that was a thing I put myself through. Again. You know how it is with these big games. You tell yourself, “This time, I’ll just chill, enjoy it.” But that never really happens, does it?
The Whole Pre-Game Dance
It starts way before kickoff. Checking news, arguing with mates online, the usual circus. My process for this one? Same as always. Clear the schedule, which is a laugh because something always comes up. Then it’s the fight with the streaming service, hoping it doesn’t decide to die on me. That’s become a standard part of my “match preparation” these days. It’s not even about the football sometimes; it’s about conquering the tech just to watch the damn thing.
I remember one time, not this match, but another big one. My entire internet went down. Just gone. Middle of the second half. I nearly lost my mind. Ended up following on some dodgy text update site that was five minutes behind. What a joke. That’s the kind of dedication, or maybe stupidity, we’re talking about here. That’s the real practice session, honestly, dealing with all that crap.
Actually Watching The Thing
Then the game itself. It’s a blur, mostly. Shouting at the screen, a few moments of hope, probably a lot more of groaning. I try to take notes, mentally at least, about what’s happening, who’s playing well, who’s messing up. That’s my “record keeping,” if you want to call it that. More like a therapy session I’m having with myself.
You invest all this emotion. For what? Ninety minutes of mostly stress. It’s like those people who run marathons. Why? This is my marathon, I guess. Sitting on my couch, getting worked up. My doctor would probably tell me to stop.
- Fiddling with the TV settings.
- Muting the commentators if they get too annoying. Standard procedure.
- Pacing around during tense moments. My carpet’s probably worn out.
And Then It’s Over. Poof.
After the final whistle, there’s that weird quiet. Or maybe I’m just deaf from my own yelling. I usually just sit there for a bit. Thinking. Replaying bits in my head. What was the point of all that energy? I don’t know. But I do it every single time. This Al Hilal vs Esteghlal thing, it was just another entry in the logbook.
People ask why I bother. Good question. I don’t have a good answer. It’s just what I do. It’s this whole routine, this… commitment. It’s messy, it’s often frustrating, but here I am, sharing my “practice” of watching another game. And I’ll probably do it all over again next week. That’s the crazy part, isn’t it?
