In pursuit of a football club

I've always believed that you don't choose the club you support, the club chooses you.

There’s something very artificial, synthetic about seeking out a club to support. I’ve been club-less since early 2024, ever since Borussia Dortmund (BVB) struck up a sponsorship deal with Rheinmetall, a weapons manufacturing company, right in the middle of the Gaza genocide.

I might have supported them since I was 15 but the older I get and the more politically aware I’ve become, it becomes necessary to filter certain teams out.

When the world (rightfully) came together for Ukraine but (painfully) would not do the same for us, when its racism was on display surrounding the the ‘22 World Cup, things shifted for me. First, notions of a national team. Then came club.

There's a lot of childhood memories I attach to Dortmund. They were always Number 2 in the German league, trailing behind Bayern Munich year-in year-out (and as a loyal supporter of the club, I hated Bayern Munich with a passion.) I knew who their players were, I followed their matches, followed their transfer market moves, followed other supporters online. Cliche as it sounds, there was a sense of belonging, as far as sports go. To watch them lose and then try again next season, dragging your expectations with it, is part of the game and makes football what it is.

In 2013, after two years of dominating thdir domestic league, BVB was in an all-German final in the Champions League. Bayern v Dortmund. I remember thinking to myself: Dortmund has to win this! Not just because I was rooting for them, but because I knew it was likely they’d not get this chance again. Bayern could, not Dortmund. And I was right.

In the years to come, not only did Dortmund fail to reach the CL finals, they failed to win a single Bundesliga title. The most agonising season was 2022/23. Dortmund was leading the table, but due to the overall points, Bayern could surpass them. So it was all down to the final matchday. Dortmund had to win against Mainz. They were inches close to winning the domestic league after a decade.

But they didn’t. The match ended in a draw.

It was painful—I mean, as painful as a crucial match can be for a supporter, lest I sound melodramatic.

But what does any of it mean when Dortmund showcases itself as, not the underdog, but an elite team that abets in genocide. Why a team feels the need to be sponsored by a weapons manufacturing company is beyond me. I had to severe ties with this shameful club.

Fast forward and it's been some years since I properly watched a club match. And who I support next matters. I’m not hung up on a nostalgia-induced notion that football belongs to the traditionally ‘big’ teams. It's for teams and players to be given a chance to not prove but show their talent. It's for kids who play on empty plots of land between apartment buildings.

In my fan history, I’ve always rooted for the underdogs. I simply can’t bring myself to support a big club who’ve won so much in recent years. It’s like coming to a party late. I've followed clubs that have never won anything big in the time I supported them and were always could-be winners. They’re never clubs that are chasing their next title for an already bulging trophy cabinet. They’re not heavy weights you expect to dominate and win. You’re left on the edge, because the stakes are high. They’re clubs who have something to prove, and who can prove.

I know that no team and what it represents will be perfect. If I want, I can try to relive all my Dortmund days with another club in a whimsical fairytale where football is all wins and losses and fun marketing videos, but I can no longer divorce it from its politics. Football can be a beautiful game but it is a very dirty one too.