CFC

This is a guest blog post by one of our famed Chattahooligans, John "El Nino" Fajardo.

Photography by Donny Stiefel.

As a self-proclaimed Chattahooligan, the NPSL off-season brought "Chattanooga FC withdrawals." In August I found myself rocking back and forth in the dark singing “Go CFC,” clutching a picture of Andy Stewart. Fortunately, by December, when I was considering becoming a table tennis fan, I was able to score a new Chattanooga FC scarf. Some people were concerned that I never took it off, not even when showering, but I found that it comforted me, much like a blanky comforts a baby. Just as my friends were organizing an intervention, a Chattahooligan support group finally convened. It was then that I realized I was not alone.

The meeting began when the brave Joe Evans rose and declared, “During the off season, I spent my time trying to learn the American Football crazy. Only to be kicked out of bar after bar for screaming ‘HAND BALL’ at the top of my lungs every few seconds.” Joe also wrote to Teen Beat, suggesting that they feature Thomas Hunter, which in itself is not odd behavior, but he apparently did this over a thousand times.

The lovely Elizabeth Strain felt compelled to share that, on several occasions, she had been found standing in traffic on Carter Street yelling “None shall pass!” After being forced to give up this habit, Elizabeth took her cowbell everywhere she went: work, weddings, UTC’s December graduation ceremony. And Doc Howard confessed: “I have been driving around town looking for events, so that I can tailgate. This became extremely awkward a couple of weeks ago when I pulled up to a full parking lot, set up my stuff, and started chanting ‘Bring out your dead,’ only to be confronted by an angry funeral home director and a grieving family.” Doc was able to make amends by offering to brew a cup of Chattahooligan tea for each of the mourners.

As we went around the room testifying, we found that some of us were more greatly afflicted than others. El Conductor was so extremely disturbed by a society sans Chattanooga FC that he abandoned civilization like a modern-day Huckleberry Finn and “sailed down the Tennessee River on a homemade raft of used $4 beer cups.” Apparently, his dog was forced to accompany him; the dog is now sporting bleach-blonde hair and answers to the name of “Russell Corgi.” Galen Riley filled the Chattanooga FC hole in his schedule by camping out at  Gerry Cleary's house with a cowbell and a bass drum. Of this experience with the Rocket City coach, Galen reported, “We did not exchange words, and I did not make noise. I just stared intently. I think I'm in his head now; he needed to know what's coming.” Unfortunately, Bill Bolen lost a job because he insisted on being served $4 beer every 45 minutes. And, after trying to organize a "march-in" ceremony at his church, Bill became the subject of many prayers. 

It seemed like a sad state of affairs. Fortunately, Ernie Dempsey was on hand to counsel his fellow Chattahooligans and remind us that the 2012 season begins on May 5, which is just a few short weeks away. Then, he forced us to make signs and flags, as well as stormtrooper balloons. While he did not confess how he had tried to deal with his Chattanooga FC addiction in the off-season, we are pretty sure it had something to do with the obsessive production of balloon art.

Join the Chattahooligans at Finley on May 5, and bring a stormtrooper because it’s time to take on the Force.