The best day of the year is Derby day.
That’s a surprising statement and it’s the truth. How am I going to spend the time until the match, brush my teeth thinking about all of the Tifo in section 11, driving in my car listening to Maccabi music, going to work and have people bother me when I’m flying high watching Zahavi’s goal in the 3:2 Derby. I’m counting the hours and the minutes until I can get to the fabled old stadium in Jaffa.
Dusk descends and then nightfall but everything is ready my mother tells me, three .jpg)
hours before kickoff the TV goes on. The Derby officially gets underway and at the moment I say, enough, I’m getting ready and I’m heading to Bloomfield with my scarf and lucky jersey, section 11 here I come.
I get to the streets of Jaffa and I look around, I see the shadows and I hear the voices, all of Jaffa is Yellow-and-Blue. I’m dying to get out of my car to smell the surroundings and feel the atmosphere. Buy a falafel, light a cigarette to relax and take a deep breath, Yalla Derby as I walk slowly towards the stands listening to the crowd already straining their voices as I walk up the magical stairs.
Quiet, silence and darkness, you’re alone in the friendly confines of Bloomfield where there are hundreds of things going on in the stadium within seconds. The lush green pitch in all of its beauty is before me and suddenly my ears perk up, I lift my hands and hold my scarf high. I didn’t come to a concert, I came to show off my religion, the religion I love, the religion of Yellow-and-Blue. I came to prove who is the most beautiful in the city, the excitement is in the air and I’m dying for the match to begin. Who am I you ask? I am Maccabi who comes to win every match, at every stadium with all of my strength and all of my might. “Not Yet” the fans say in stands. Soon. The referee blows his whistle…to be continued Saturday night…
