In 1999, something else also happened. in fact, that event went on to galvanize a certain Mr. Steve Waugh, whose team was almost down and out in the world cup of that year, until he witnessed said event and was inspired to fight back just as heroically.
the event was manchester united's miraculous win against bayern munich in the champion's league final.
man u were dominant in england prior to that win, but after it became larger than life through out the world. for a country like pakistan, where everyone is forever looking to the west as a dream destination, or a source of consternation, man u became a delightful status symbol.
after all, we had just seen the dish antenna become ubiquitous. we had a new ruler hell bent on enlightening and modernizing us. 
and so, enraptured by the lures of big dreams and big wins, the upper class pakistani boy decided to become a man u fan.
now he could forever cower over the vanquished, he could always point to being the best, he could become part of something that awkward fans through out the world had in common - unwavering veneration of the theater of dreams, the red devils, the richest, bestest, greatest team in the world.
now he could forever cower over the vanquished, he could always point to being the best, he could become part of something that awkward fans through out the world had in common - unwavering veneration of the theater of dreams, the red devils, the richest, bestest, greatest team in the world.
it didn't matter that united were not even the biggest club in manchester, or that 99% of their pakistani fans couldn't place manchester on a map. it didn't matter that their fans were still learning what the offside rule meant. what mattered was man u.
most man u fans went on to become bankers. because like a bank, a man u fan can invest his faith and joy in his team ensured of steady, healthy returns. there is little risk, you always know that there is going to be a profit at the end of the year.
so what if it's soulless number crunching - you can always gloat and be a shallow bully to one and all by pointing to the number of zeroes in your account, or the number of premier league titles in your trophy chest.
the steady drum of boring seasons of predictable titles helped to deflect any criticism regarding the vacous corporate nature of a club that would prise away a cherished hero with a few shakes of their massive purse strings. say what you want about chelsea, it was manchester united where the red devil bought football's soul.
as time went by, there were other waves as well. the "immortal" season gave birth to the arsenal fan,
the abrahamovich takeover saw the rise of the chelsea fan,
the miracle against milan brought us the liverpool fan.
there were no organic connections, no intellectual reasonings, no risks.
the Big Four all had their rabid fans, all ensured of weekly successes, of midweek champion's league appearances, of fa cup wins and trouncing of minnows, and the endless, endless transfer intrigues.
it wasn't about football - it was about supporting something that you knew wouldn't break your heart, which wouldn't cause your balls to shrivel and tear your nerves, which wouldn't leave your hair tattered in clumps amidst your shaking fingers.
it wasn't about football - it was about supporting something that you knew wouldn't break your heart, which wouldn't cause your balls to shrivel and tear your nerves, which wouldn't leave your hair tattered in clumps amidst your shaking fingers.
something which wasn't the pakistani cricket team.
[End of Tangent One]
(to be continued)