I dreamed of boarding my homeward bound flight, a renaissance man, proficient in countless traditional Japanese arts. The prospects of representing my country in kyūdō, quite surprising my family with a Christmas shakuhachi performance, and, abandoning my awful handwriting for my newfound shodō brilliance provided me with a reason to actually look forward to the end of this semester. Save for a dramatic turn of events, these arguably lofty dreams look to be well and truly crushed.

Advised, by the powers that be, not to try my hand at an activity I had no experience in, I regretfully crossed off pretty much every possibility on list. I’m an Englishman. Football is my inochi, how spectacularly original. I stalled before reluctantly accepting that my CIP was to be football. After much research, aided significantly by Yamaoka-sensei, I trotted down to the Kamogawa one fine Saturday morning. Despite not finding the one I had been hoping to, I ended up joining the team that was training there. I say with questionable certainty that this team’s name is Nyū Borā; my understanding is that it came from some Italian phrase.

Football is, in theory, a very rewarding CIP. Unfortunately, I was only able to attend the team’s Saturday training sessions, and even then I missed a bunch of them because sometimes there were matches and other times I was getting lost elsewhere during my travels. A team sport whose squads consist of usually 20+ members bound by banter and strong camaraderie, football does provide a solid opportunity to make Japanese friends.

To my relief, the team seemed to jump at the opportunity to count an igirisujin amongst its members; coming from a football-crazy nation helped. Even though they did not add me to their Line group, the players welcomed me with varying enthusiasm, but enthusiasm nonetheless. Many were eager to befriend me in the hope that my English be contagious. I shared meals with a few members, and became as close as my Japanese permits to the only other Doshisha student in this Kyodai circle. Though at times it was tough to keep up with the Kansaiben and speed of speech, conversation was manageable because, unsurprisingly, all of the members were happy to talk about football. There is a strong sense of hierarchy and seniority and an absence of honorifics. Amusingly, when the ball flew into the river the newcomers were expected to retrieve it, and one actually disrobed and entered the water. Upon approaching the team, I was immediately directed towards el capitano, who would often express his surprise at my use of honorifics in emails. This is not different to what one would expect in any other country.

My CIP was enjoyable despite my infrequent attendance preventing my participation in the matches. I made some acquaintances, understood a joke here and there, and tried to improve my embarrassing casual Japanese.