People think that it is one big party. Sitting in the dugout watching the team play in front of you. Showing off. The best seats in the house.

Fans are envious. A bunch of fellows strutting about on the pitch with the players during the warmups. Dressed immaculately in joggers and club polos. Sporting Nikes or Pumas or Adidases. Sharing a laugh with the Coaches here and high-fiving a player there.

Well for starters...

It is difficult. Period. Blood, sweat and tears.

Let me start off by sharing an anecdote. I hope to share many more in the days to come.

NorthEast United FC was playing Chennaiyin FC at the Marina Arena in a game that was a must win for the former champions. For us, it was a game that we could not afford to lose at any cost. The game was a see-saw affair from the beginning. Chennaiyin opened the scoring via Dudu. We responded soon after with a blinding strike from our Argentinian, Nicolas Velez. Just before the half ended, Dudu was at it again, powering one past Subrata Paul. We responded after the restart via Velez : a first-time strike that was spilled by the Chennaiyin keeper. With the game heading towards a draw, Chennaiyin's Head Coach, Marco Materazzi, rolled his dice.

The crowd went crazy. It was as if God had made an appearance. Bernard Mendy, a Chennaiyin FC fan favourite was making an entrance. The fans gave him wings with their voices. A few minutes later, he passed a rapier through our hearts. Around the 80th minute, he spun away from our full-back and careened down the right. With time and space to pick his moment, he duly did so. A ball was played between the last defender and the goal-keeper. The striker Dudu caused panic. In all the confusion, the ball hit the keeper and the defender and then bounced off a diving Dudu's back. Quite excruciatingly, it then rolled into the net.

Sickness. I felt like vomiting. I smacked my hand against my chair. My admit band snapped and lay on the seat. Tears were almost making an appearance. I was thinking about the morose dressing room. The utter desolation and emptiness. Seeing the Chennaiyin FC fans delirious made me ill. 

I could hardly watch. I was gouging my eyes out. I was cursing everybody I could curse. I was screaming at the referee. I was remonstrating with the fourth official. I was remembering my late father in desperation, begging him to do me a favour from heaven...behaving irrationally.

In the 95th minute, Chennaiyin conceded a corner. Quite inexplicably, Velez ran to take it. Our usual corner kick taker, Yusa, stayed behind. Something felt strange. Something felt different. From the resulting corner that was delivered to the perfect spot between the keeper and the line of defence, Shouvik Ghosh, a man you would not expect to score for anything in the world, lost his marker, rose like a Phoenix and drilled the ball into the roof of the net.

I was perhaps the only one on the bench to realise what had happened. I ran across to the boys..onto the pitch, crossing the Chennaiyin bench on the way. I wept like a child. I sank to my knees and looked at the sky above and thanked my father. I looked around and saw Marco staring at us. I pumped my fists and let out a bellow. He turned away in disgust. I felt as if I had suffered a heart-attack. My chest was paining. I could not breathe. The full time whistle blew shortly after. The Chennaiyin players collapsed on the pitch. Some of them burst into tears.

This is a small glimpse into what we go through :-) If you want more of this, do let me know. I shall try and share some more interesting tales from time to time.

Love, 

AC.