To Be A Pacer.

First and foremost you must have a love of football and an appreciation of the intrinsic ties between it and alcohol.  The understanding of the social power created by these two great gifts is crucial.  Also if you're an Englishmen you must be able to play with Scotsmen.  If you are Canadian you must pretend to enjoy Americans, and if you are Icelandic congratulations for just making it here.

Some have said it is akin to a marriage.  Some have said it is a unique brotherhood of footballers in a small part of the world.  Others say it has completely ruined their lives in every facet of daily life.  Whichever mark its takes with a player, it is definitely an indelible one.

With a hectic social calendar coupled with an equally demanding football schedule, the life of a Pacer can quickly become high-flying.  Whether it's the three-touch Wednesday Night practice or the Saturday afternoon kick-around.  Or perhaps it's time for one of the seasonal tournaments, in any of the four major cities in Taiwan.  Or maybe, just maybe it's an international tourney somewhere in the Asia-Pacific.  If that's not possible then it's just your regular Sunday friendly in or around the greater Kaohsiung area.  Some Pacer's love football, some are crazy for it, and a few are certifiably mad for it.  There's no screening process for entry into this coveted group.  One simply comes along and understands the base thinking, can actually play the bloody game and has respect for the devils vomit.  If these light bulbs have not gone off then it's not very hard to know that the Pacer's aren't your pint of bitter.

Although Sissy's are not excluded from joining, it is safe to say that none exist in the Pacer organization.  This is readily proven by the sheer amount of guff distributed between the players.  Any one with a weak skin will surely become a victim of obliterated self-esteem in a matter of days (the odd sailor may fall on his first Wednesday).  That is to say one must be able take the piss, and conversely, allow it to be poured upon them, sometimes at obscene lengths and still retain a sense of humor.  Make no mistake this is also a highly competitive side that plays on and off the pitch.  So in full, a Sissy cannot become a Pacer.  However a wannabe Pacer can become a Sissy if he has not the ability to throw his mouth around sometimes.

Let it also be known that the Pacer is not bound by gender.  This is an equal opportunity outfit.  All are welcome to compete.  The reality is however that any sane woman would have the carnal knowledge to understand the ramifications of a sports team centered on drink and the beautiful game.  Chivalry is not on the football pitch and you can be certain that at the Wednesday Night Shop at 3:00am no ones giving up a seat for a milk crate.

I wish to finish with the most important point of all (of course this is not surprising as many things are done in order of importance, with the most important at the end.  This helps with flair and lingering thought after the fact.), no Pacer is ever alone.  The most overwhelming sense that permeates the organization is team.  If you are a Pacer there is always someone there.  For all the competitive swinging that goes on within the team, the sense of team always wins out.  Anybody that is a Pacer feels it completely, and anyone who wants to be a Pacer sees it clearly.  Once a Pacer, always a Pacer. Always together, never alone.

Andy Gourley(2003)