To be a fan...

These days, with the second season of the IPL in full flow, I was thinking back to the days when, for the first time, i truly felt what it was like to be a fan. A fan of a team of individuals you may not have any connect with, yet you egg on like they were somehow related to your life.
The first major sporting event i really followed was the 1996 Cricket World Cup, but, though i felt pretty bad when India went out to Sri Lanka in that eventful semi final, the actual passion of following a team came during the 1998 Football World Cup, France '98.
The Dutch football team is one I've always had a strange connect with. Maybe I was initially drawn to them because of the silky skills of the mercurial Dennis Bergkamp, the non flying Dutchman (he was well known for his fear of planes, and never really travelled by them.). Maybe it was the Orange. I dunno. But, as France '98 started picking up steam, with the pre quarters, i started paying more attention to the others. The speedy and inventive midfielders like Overmars, Seedorf and Edgar Davids (who, for me, was the midfielder of the tournament). The wonderfully talented De Boer twins, Frank and Ronald, and the others.. Kluivert, Zenden, Jonk... all backed up by that excellent keeper, Van Der Saar.
It started of with that pre quarterfinal against the Yugoslavs... They admittedly did have some good fortune, with that accomplished striker, Predrag Mijatovic, missing a penalty for the Yugoslavs. Then, in the 92nd minute, with everyone looking towards penalties, Davids unleashes a shot from the edge of the box... speculative... but it went in and Holland were through to the quarters, where they would face a fancied Argentine side, who themselves had come through a harrowing match against the English on penalties.
This one was set up beautifully towards the end for a photo finish. With the scores level on 1-1, in the 89th minute, a long ball was hopefully presented in the Argentine half... and who would be there to receive it, but... Dennis Bergkamp. This was his moment. You could see it coming. With all the finesse and precision that has marked some of his best goals, he unleashed what was probably the goal of the tournament, into the roof of the Argentine net. The Dutch were through. Bergkamp had lived up to his billing. By now my excitement had reached fever pitch.
The Dutch were to face the mighty Brazilians in the semi final. Though i had an inkling that the Dutch had their best moment in the tournament already, i was still hopeful. That they would make their ancestors of Total Football, who had failed to win football's top honour, proud.
The match started of innocuously. The first half went scoreless. Then, in the early minutes of the second half, Ronaldo gets in. 1-0 to Brazil. Holland kept pushing. In the 87th minute, a cross comes in from the right, and Kluivert, rises above the Brazilian defense to powerfully head in the equaliser. The Dutch had scored at the death again. In the ensuing extra time, both teams came close to breaking the deadlock, but it finally had to be penalties.
Cocu missed and Ronald De Boer missed, and the Oranje dream was over. Brazil was through to the final. After that, i really didn't care about the 3rd place match with Croatia. Though Zenden provided another glimpse of why the Dutch brand of football is so beloved, with a beautifully taken goal. Croatia ended up winning that 3rd place. But as far as i was concerned, my beloved Oranje had lost earlier.
I went out to my balcony, and raised my fist to the humid middle eastern air. AAgh.... So this was how it felt like to be a fan.