I've always been a great fan of the Chunichi Dragons, he thought, but what are the Dragons to me, anyway? Say they beat the Giants - how's that going to make me a better person? How could it? So why the heck have I spent all this time getting worked up like the team was some extension of myself?
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
In an interesting sequence of events, I read these very apt words a short time after watching an extremely off-color, lacklustre and insipid Chelsea capitulate to Lipervool. While some credit is due, (especially the screamer from Jermaine Pennant for the second goal) overall the way Chelsea looked so, well, uninterested made me sad. But I digress.
Where was I? Right. Why bother getting so worked up like the team is some extension of myself? Repeat ad naseum/infinitum.
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