Forget football, we’re going to the opera

These are the words of a chant that is sung by football fans in Bulgaria, or soccer as the sport is known in English-speaking North America. Until very recently, I couldn’t make sense of this chant. It seems to suggest that the singer is excited about going to the opera. But it jarred with what I knew about soccer fans. The opera was the last place I would have expected to see one of them. 

How prejudice is created

While growing up in Bulgaria, I was far removed from soccer, both the game and especially its fans. The only person who might have been able to enlighten me was my father. But he was not a football fan, and street chants would have been even less familiar to him.

As recently as a few weeks ago and in preparation for writing this blog post, I finally decided to google the chant. I fully expected that it might have disappeared into oblivion, and I was never to find out what it meant. But I was lucky — the internet is an infinite source of information, no matter how trivial. The chant is sung after a team has lost a game. The sentiment of the song is about the fans being so disappointed and frustrated with their team that they rather go to the opera than to another soccer game. Well, I was right about one thing. My notions about Bulgarian soccer fans’ aversion to opera weren’t completely misguided.

It has been many years now since I last lived in Bulgaria. It was at a time when soccer was considered to be a men’s game. Accordingly, men comprised almost exclusively its fan base. Women, in general, did not care for soccer and did not go to soccer games. It was also somewhat dangerous because the fans were passionate about the game, and alcohol was a big part of the experience.

My high school was located near the central football stadium. Whenever a big game had just finished, I had to wait out for the masses to disperse before I dared go on the public transit to get home. The fans of both the losing and the winning teams were unpleasant. Whether deliriously happy or bitterly disappointed, they sang obnoxiously loud, shouted profanities, and catcalled at young women. All of it made me exceedingly uncomfortable. As a result, I had learned to stay away from sport events. Period!

How prejudice is shattered

Only after I arrived in North America did I slowly learn to appreciate live games. I finally felt comfortable attending them in stadiums. First, I started with baseball. I was amazed at the number of not only women, but whole families with small children present at the games. There was nothing threatening in the cheering crowd. And it helped that at the time the Toronto Blue Jays were doing amazingly well and went on to win the World Series. I even bought a t-shirt with the Blue Jays logo!

More recently I went to a hockey game with my son and nephew. It was the most exhilarating experience of my life so far. Even childbirth did not compare. There are many emotions I associate with childbirth, but heart-thumping exhilaration isn’t one of them. It turned out that it was objectively an unusually exciting game. During the second overtime, I was on my feet, screaming at the top of my lungs, because the action on the ice was that exciting. Never mind that I couldn’t see the puck most of the time. Even though the home team lost the game in the end, the disappointed fans were calm and friendly. The three of us made it home on the public transit without a hint of fear or discomfort. I’m yet to go to a live soccer game.

Before I go on any further, I should clarify that I no longer equate soccer players with their fans. I’m aware of the efforts many professional footballers make to show their fans, and anyone who is willing to pay attention, that they are kind and considerate, embrace diversity, and are capable of receiving criticism with grace. In most cases. The spitting and shoving never make for a good look, but I’ve been told that they are necessary . . . Okay, I concede.

Opposites attract . . .

If you’re still reading, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with creative writing. Well, it’s all about how opposites attract. Or do they? Or what does it mean to be “opposites”? And what really attracts us to another person, idea, or viewpoint?

On the surface, opera and football don’t seem to go together. Similarly, professional football players and university professors don’t seem to mesh. These are the occupations of the two main protagonists in my novel. Why? Because I thought that these two types of characters would be as ignorant of and prejudiced against each other as I could imagine.

After all, I’m a university professor and I don’t know any professional soccer players. I’ve known professional actors, even some minor celebrities who were household names at some point in their careers. I’ve known successful artists and own some of their pieces of art. I grew up among factory workers, and I spent summers with the kids of people who tended vineyards and raised animals in their backyards. But no professional athletes of my acquaintance. As far as I know, there aren’t any big soccer fans among my university colleagues, although I would allow for some minor exceptions.

Wisdom comes with experience. Throughout my life, I have noticed how I built prejudices and eventually shed them, but only after I became more familiar with the objects of my prejudice. It’s well-known that ignorance brews prejudice. Yet, we still allow our ignorance to influence our perceptions of other people, whether it is about their looks, thoughts, or actions. Shedding my preconceived notions has fascinated me, and it’s with relief that I acknowledge that.

Humans tend to group themselves based on language, hobbies, occupation, drives, . . . you name it. They organize their experiences and the objects that surround them into as few categories as possible. It’s a natural proclivity. It allows us to store information in our memory banks, to simplify problems, and to solve conundrums more efficiently. In other words, we make sense of our reality, which, let’s face it, at times could be overwhelming. But this propensity to categorize also leads to prejudice, especially when we group people into categories based on a single trait, such as race, gender, or nationality.

But humans are complex individuals with many traits. While some of us may be similar on one or two traits—for example, women from Eastern Europe—we tend to be very different on others. Some Eastern European women have progressive values and some lean more on the traditional side. Some choose to over sexualize their appearance and many don’t. Many are strong in math and sciences, others excel in the arts. Some tend to dress up with impeccable care, while others don’t. And some are cold and heartless, but most are warm and considerate. The list of stereotypes goes on and on. The traits on which the women from Eastern Europe differ from each other are also the ones that unite them with women from other parts of the world—women who share similar values, temperaments, and grooming habits. 

. . . or do they?

History has shown us over and over again that breaking habits and prejudice is very hard. But I have also come to realize that if we push ourselves hard enough, we can find similarities even in the most disparate things. But it usually takes time and concerted effort. As a result, if we don’t push ourselves hard enough, prejudice persist.

When we consider someone to be our opposite, it is usually because we don’t know them very well. In general, we tend to be drawn toward this which we know, we understand, looks like us. The familiarity gives us comfort, it assures us that we’re not alone in the world. We may become tantalized by someone who seems to be very different from us on the surface, whether in terms of age, occupation, level of education, race or gender.

But in order for two people to get along, or to form a bond, they have to share a fundamental agreement in terms of values, goals, or attitudes. And of course, the opposite is possible too, namely for two people who are very similar on the surface to have differences that may eventually tear them apart. Which scenario is more likely? I don’t know. Which takes more effort or has a greater chance of success in the long run? I’d bet on the former, the one where we need to dig deeper to find a common ground. If I only knew that when I was nineteen! Let’s just say that since then I’ve met people, just a few, who love opera and are also passionate about soccer.

I’m looking forward to being as exhilarated again as when I was at the hockey game. Forget the opera, I’m going to a football match!