Up in the Sky

I’ve long wondered exactly what specific sight in football I hold dearest, and yesterday I was reminded of it once again. Sure, moments like the one Messi provided us with last week are breathtaking. They dominate my days, or at least my free time. But for sheer television drama, I’ll go with a moment only very rarely seen. You forget about it through the long, gruelling course of the season until in the final game, maybe the game before that, you can see it again.

Like most leagues, the Dutch league has a format in which all the games on the final one or two rounds of the season are played at exactly the right moment, barring some sort of excuse for a crowd like ADO den Haag’s, who found it necessary to ruin the final game ever to be played in their somewhat legendary stadium. But all the games of the 33rd round neatly kicked off simultaneously at the blow of a whistle, and other than the ADO game, they all ended at roughly the same time as well.

The situation at the top of the league here in Holland is close. PSV, in what must surely be one of the most spectacular meltdowns in human history, blew away what was once an eleven point lead to get both Ajax and AZ back into the race for the title. The former politely passed on a momentous opportunity to take the lead two weeks ago, the latter never had a chance to do so – until yesterday. And it was one of those moments I cherish so much.

AZ led SC Heerenveen two to one, when in the 85th minute, the stadium erupted. Now, stadiums tend to erupt, so nothing particularly strange there, but there had been no immediate cause for the mass celebration that took place here. A mere throw in was accompanied by the biggest explosion of joy in Alkmaar I have ever seen, and then I understood, what had happened. Some fifty kilometres to the south, Utrecht had equalized against PSV, putting AZ, if they would just beat Heerenveen, at the top of the table for the first time in the season. A minute later, with the AZ fans still in the midst of their most primal scream, Simon Cziommer scored with a beautiful long distance lob to put AZ up three to one, and the people on the stands had to gasp for air so they could scream some more.

In Amsterdam Ajax fans, up five to two, stopped paying attention to the game and started watching the massive scoreboards. That complete uncertainty about one’s own fate is one of the sights I enjoy the most about football. It’s the purest mixture of fear, hope and anticipation you’ll find. Me? As a Roda JC fan, I never have to worry about winning the title or not. But next week, I worry about fifth place and the automatic European ticket it provides. I hope Roda beats Heracles. I hope Heerenveen and Feyenoord tie. I hope Groningen doesn’t win its game by a bigger margin than Roda does. I fear one of these things will not happen. But in a production truck near the Willem II stadion, I’ll be watching the numbers, completely uncertain of my own (club’s) fate. And I will love it.