Sports Rivalries & A Cold Household

My sister Marie and I used to fight a lot when we were younger; luckily we get along great now. The only time we get tense is when sports is involved. Sports do amazing things for society, there’s no substitute for it, and it stirs up intense feelings…but not all of them are positive emotions.

I come from a sports household. Marie and I played (and still do, to some degree) multiple sports growing up. Weekends (and weekdays if you know your football) in the living room were always full of life, and loud, when we’d sit together with my Dad and watch games.

For having practiced both disciplines while growing up, we’re mostly into tennis and football, way more of the latter though. As such we all have our allegiances.

My Dad has been a supporter of Marseille for 30+ years, so naturally his love for the team spread to my sister and me. That’s our common denominator, our foundation.  Marseille is still the only French club to win the highest European club trophy by the way 1993 baby, Paris I’m looking at you…LMAO. Unfortunately Marseille is also where it ends as far as us getting along sports-wise.

While I’m a huge Real Madrid fan, Marie and Dad are both for Barcelona. You can already imagine, given the history of rivalry between both teams, how intense it’s gotten; when we watched both teams go at it, either against each other or other teams…

For example: After this game, I can assure you the house was dead quiet for a few days between me and both of them. Lord it was hard watching that game… I also really do regret that Real Madrid’s domination happened when we were either too young, or had already left home for university…

In 2009, when Barcelona was playing Chelsea in the semi-final of the Champions League, and they were eliminated, when the last minute, Andres Iniesta came through with a dagger. My Mum actually had to come and calm me down, and make sure I was okay.  Meanwhile Marie and my Dad were going all out screaming and celebrating just a few feet away…

I almost fainted after Iniesta scored, because I did NOT want Barcelona to go though. That goal, plus the ridiculous refereeing that helped them during that game was too much in one night. Sport outcomes have occasionally made me feel extreme joy and pain, to the point where I’ve been affected for days.

Marie and I were in Cameroon during the summer of 2008 when Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer competed in that years Wimbledon final. I was a huge fan of Federer at the time. The previous summer, while in Germany, we had watched the same two guys fight for the championship. When Federer won I cheered, loudly, at the expense of Marie.

Then a year later, things changed…we didn’t watch the finals because there was no TV, but we were following on the radio. That final lasted for hours, and they played until it dark.  In between newscast, the reporter would give the score and say the match was still being played. The stress was unbearable. The game went down to the wire of the fifth and last set, and then finally late into the night, the radio announced: “For the first time in his career…” and that’s when I stopped listening….

“NO! COMMON ROGER! Don’t do this to me! He took the French Open (AGAIN!), you’re supposed to take WIMBLEDON! That’s how it works!” Roger Federer later explained that it was so dark he couldn’t see the tennis ball, but I was too distraught to listen. Marie was in heaven that night.

She has a love for all things Spanish: FC Barcelona, Rafael Nadal, Fernando Torres, the Spanish national football team, the city of Barcelona etc etc. My Dad is the logical supporter; he knows how to separate his emotions from the game, and not let a disappointment get to him.

He’s been a fan of Roger Federer when it comes to tennis, and I moved on and became a huge Novak Djokovic fan after I learned about him in 2007.  His ridiculously fun personality and youthful confidence is what won me over.

We’ve had a lot of memories, good and bad, when it comes to sport. I could go on and on about all the arguments, cries, screams, anger displays and joyful explosions we’ve been through. But you get the point.