GOTHENBURG, Sweden — I am often asked if I am like so many other Americans who think Europe is one big country and who do not bother to differentiate between its various nations and cities.
Ah, no. I do realize Europe is home to a variety of people with vastly different lifestyles living in vastly different cities. And as an American in Europe, I have noted an aura that sets this place apart from any American city and from other places I have visited.
My experience living in Gothenburg has been distinctly European. The European identity can be felt in the coffee shops, the baked goods, the fashion styles and the music played. It permeates the faucets, the doorknobs and the light switches. Even the beds have a European identity. It also crops up in traffic patterns and laundry systems, in locker rooms and teammates’ hairstyling techniques. It supersedes language or nationality. It is a general way of being. And a large part of that way of life is defined by football/soccer.
Football culture is pervasive in the lives of most Europeans in a way that would possibly best correlate to “Monday Night Football” (American football, that is) in the United States. Not everyone follows it, but it runs deeper than the game. It is generally not easy to move somewhere new and create a life for yourself that is rich and meaningful. For me, football has been the tie that binds. It is the driving force behind so many moments that have shaped my journey and will forever change how I view the world.
A couple of weeks ago I walked with my American teammate Cami Levin among thousands of fans in Copenhagen. We navigated the cobblestone, slowly leaving the lights of the stadium behind us. But the images of the game we attended remained imprinted in my mind. I will not claim to be a true Juventus supporter, but I have followed the team for the last few seasons and jumped at the chance to see them face Copenhagen in UEFA Champions League.
Copenhagen is a three-hour drive from Gothenburg, so when the club rented a small car for us about a week before the game, I quickly learned to drive the manual transmission in preparation for the trip. Nothing like true motivation to trump my fear of changing gears through the city while navigating trams, buses and cyclists!
I insisted that we get to the stadium an hour before kickoff so we would not miss one minute of the warm-up. I watched, in part, as a professional admiring the proficiency and speed at which the men were performing the same skills I train every day. The other half of me was just a participant in a much bigger scene, though. I was taking part in the experience of total football immersion. On game day in Europe, people stream in from the streets of the city to the stadium, rather than tailgating in a huge parking lot. During important competitions you can hear cheers as you walk by sports bars on the street. After the game, my Juventus scarf raised questions and started conversations in the tiny restaurant where we ate.
I felt not like an outsider, taking in this spectacle, but instead like a European sharing in a communal experience. It has taken me nearly a year to feel like I live in Gothenburg, but slowly my extended soccer trip gave way to what I consider a new home. I have bonded with teammates from parts of the world that once seemed like only blips on a map, watched games live that were usually events only TV channels could connect me with, and lived my life in a way that never would have been possible for me in the United States.
Once more, the game I love has enriched my existence in ways I could not have dreamed.