Goal!

I have to confess, I'd never been a soccer fan. Watching it on TV always seemed marginally less interesting than watching laundry go round in the washing machine. In fact, I once said as much to a then-boyfriend who came out to ask why I was sitting by myself in the kitchen, rather than joining him and his flatmates watching Cameroon playing in the World Cup. (An incident that probably had a lot to do with the collapse of our relationship soon after.)

But being in Japan has converted me to the "beautiful game." It started with Japan's qualification for the World Cup finals. In 1994 Japan had lost out on a place in the finals when Iraq scored against them in the final minute of the last qualifying match, so when the winning goal went in in extra time in the final qualifier for 1998 the entire nation was on its feet. Watching the match on TV late at night with Kentaro (which for me at the time was genuine proof of love) it was impossible not to catch something of his joy and enthusiasm. And that of the other residents of his shaky old apartment building with its paper-thin walls - the cheering from the other apartments practically took the roof off.

Then in 2002 the World Cup was actually held in Japan. England held their training camp on Awaji Island, close to Osaka, and I was one of scores of translators dragooned into registering as temporary police interpreters because the prefectural police were terrified that the English would descend on the city and trash it. I remember being in an "international exchange" session that suumer with a group of high school students, who on being asked what their image was of England as a country chorused in unison "Hooligans!" In the event, there were almost no arrests at all, England supporters partied peacefully with Japanese in the streets, Japan made the second round (we always try to forget about arch-rival South Korea getting to the quarterfinals), and the future of soccer in this country was assured.

Kei and Dan both think of themselves as budding Beckhams or Nakamuras, and in April Kei started soccer school two weekends a month. Through the soccer school, we were given free tickets to see our local team, Gamba Osaka, playing FC Tokyo last weekend. It wasn't something I'd have thought of myself - but since we had the tickets, and Kei would have sulked for at least a year if we hadn't gone....

It was great!! I'd had no idea the atmosphere would be so good-natured. Families with two-year-olds dressed in Gamba jerseys that hung below their knees, young couples on dates, elderly women with orange-dyed hair chatting loudly in broad Osaka dialect, high school girls giggling and taking pictures of each other with their cellphones, men in their forties and fifties sitting quietly but erupting with the rest when Gamba had a chance at goal ... the crowd couldn't have been further removed from my 1980s British image of drunken yobs out for a fight. We were too late to find anywhere to sit, but even standing for the whole match didn't feel like a hardship.

Gamba Osaka is currently top of the J-League, and they went all out to show the home crowd a good time. FC Tokyo scored two early goals, but Gamba clawed one back just before half-time, and then came out again for a second-half goalfest that left the FC Tokyo defence looking as if they wanted to crawl off the pitch and hide. The final score was 6-2, and it would have been seven if another goal hadn't been disallowed for a dodgy offside call. The crowd was ecstatic, and so were we.

So I'm sure this won't be our last soccer match. Kei is already asking to go to a Gamba game as his birthday treat in September, and will be off to soccer school on Sunday with even more enthusiasm than before (if that's possible). Now the boys just have to choose whether they want to play for Japan or England when they grow up.