Embarrassing But True
by Zito Madu
When I saw a group of fans urging a young boy who was afraid to climb the facade of a building to go ahead and climb up, and helping lift him up so that he could join the other fans, young and old, who had scaled the building, and everyone exploding into cheers when the boy made it up there and pulled out a flare, my heart was so full of joy that there was no doubt in my mind that it had been the correct decision to book the last-minute trip to fly from New York City to London to be a part of Arsenal’s trophy parade.
I’d had other plans for the weekend. I was supposed to attend a music festival, one I had spent serious money on, for the tickets and the lodging. Yet as the day of the festival got closer and Arsenal managed to win its first title in over two decades during that time, my heart kept pulling me toward London.
I’ve been an Arsenal fan for as long as I can remember, and I’ve seen them play in London plenty of times as well as elsewhere in the world. The last time they won the title I was a young boy, so this was a rare and historic moment. When my friends urged me to go, the refrain was: We don’t know when this could happen again. But I’m not usually someone who can be convinced to do things by the fear of missing out. In fact, I would say I’m the opposite. I’m pretty happy to miss out, and ordinarily I can resist the desire to be part of the crowd quite easily, since that can overwhelm one’s responsibility to one’s life, and even keep you from doing the things that you need to do in favor of chasing whatever seems cool at the moment.
Keep us breathing fire!
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