Learning to love football.

I figured it was time. To find out just what the emotion and fuss around professional sports is all about. I'm into emotion and fuss. Also, apparently, sports are big business. I'm into big business too.

Until now, it's all been over my head and honestly, I really haven't cared. I've just never been a sports fan. Sure, as a kid I enjoyed watching ice dancing during the winter Olympics. As an adult, my heart beats a little faster when I watch Serena do her thing in centre court. But beyond that, sportsfanship was the domain of manly boys and bullies. People who were, you know, coordinated, had physical prowess on the kickball field and therefore didn't get picked last every time. Me, I got picked last.

Fortunately, times have changed and so have I. For one thing, I'm nominally British now, a status which entitles me to a number of special privileges, from socialised healthcare to calling it football instead of soccer. So I've decided its high time I get more involved in my adopted nation's passion. Soccer, which is to say, football.

And, as in all new endeavors I undertake, I've found myself a coach, an advisor, a mentor to guide me through the process.

His first lesson -- my first step on the road to fandom -- was deceptively simple. "You must adopt a team."

Easier said than done. First of all, the very term "adoption" is loaded for me. You see, I am adopted. As are my brother, sister, and every family pet we've had. Adoption is serious stuff. Big commitment. Love, even. The family-dysfunctional kind.

But a lesson is a lesson, and so adopt I would. After all, I adopted a nation-state. Why not a team? And so I did, this weekend.

So many factors to consider. Where I live. (Think globally, act locally.) The philosophy behind the team (who knew that teams have philosophies?) The ownership of the club. The cultural diversity of their players. Their performance on the pitch. (I love pitch performance. I did spend years in marketing.) Their ranking in the Premiere League. Their sponsors. And most importantly for me, their brand reputation. Let's face it, even I know which team brands signify that you're a tosser, a toff, a hopeless cheer-for-the-underdog type, or a pretentious arriviste who's a bit too shiny shiny. Such is the power of brands.

You are wincing at my overconsideration and near-paranoia, because you, of course, already are a sports fan.

The thing you must consider is that for most people, the team that is theirs -- the team that is yours -- is an intuitive and obvious thing, like breathing: you support the Yankees because you support the Yankees. Your parents did (or didn't.) Your friends did (or didn't.) It was the first game you went to. It was just an organic part of life, right? You didn't have to think about the brand, because you were probably a kid. And the brand was simply sold to you. You didn't have a fully-formed life that your team needed to fit into.

I do. Hence, all these considerations. What if I make the wrong choice, adopt the wrong team?

Well, like anyone we adopt, we deal with who they are, and they transform us.

I will tell you right now that I have some mixed feelings about my choice. I can't say I've had a love-bond with my team yet. I may need to go see them for real in order to do that. I'm not even sure I'm ready to tell you whom I've chosen.

On one hand, they're the obvious choice for me. On the other hand, it's a bit embarrassing because they're the obvious choice. I'm not sure how I feel about what my new team says about me. Or what I'll go forth to say about them. One thing's certain: my choice proclaims that I'm a toff-wannabe and frankly a bit of wanker. And now I've given it away.

Still, I can report, even this early on in my journey to sportsfanship, that it's already fun to have something mindless and non-earth-shattering to follow in the news, something physical and strategic and narrative and alive to learn more about, to get worked up about, to care about... and ultimately to share with others.

I think I might be beginning to get it.