The crowd does a good job, like knowing the game - might be a little different from other fan bases. It might not be the person who scores. It might just be the little plays, and that's what I try to do out there.
The rules of the sport itself are pretty much the same around the world, but the behaviors of the people-both fans and players-often illustrate some of the key differences between collectivism and individualism. The emphasis on both hierarchical connectedness (vertical collectivism) and interconnectedness with others (horizontal collectivism) is apparent whenever I attend baseball games in Korea, in contrast to the MLB games that I have attended in the U.S.
In this playoff season, I try to shut my eyes to products featured in commercial time-outs. You've seen them? The cryptic medicines to treat unspecified ailments? The pickup trucks and beer brands that signal ruggedness and romantic success. Or more tempting, the gooey-delectable double-cheese-pepperoni pizzas with yet more cheese stuffed in the crust. But one other caught my ear for novel English usage. Namely, the new infinitive "to fan."
In the Bundesliga, the obvious starting point is Borussia Dortmund. Their Yellow Wall is iconic, the atmosphere incredible, and the tradition undeniable. Yet the nonstop "underdog versus Bayern Munich" narrative can feel exhausting. You respect the passion, but the moral-victory energy after narrow losses? That can grate. Then there's Schalke 04. Even during seasons when Schalke aren't competing near the top, the anti-Bayern Munich sentiment never fades. Maybe it's regional pride, maybe it's history,