The most successful soccer club in the country is Al Ain FC, which happens to be located in the UAE’s version of suburbia, Al Ain City.

Al Ain FC secured its 10th league title tonight in a 2-0 spanking of Al Jazira, the defending champions, who couldn’t be bothered to play hard.

And UAE suburbia erupted with joy.

Let me explain why/how Al Ain is suburbia. It’s more about lifestyle and world view than the traditional “sub-urban” definition of lying just outside a big city.

Al Ain is located 100-plus miles and two hours south of both Dubai, a well-known tourist haven; and Abu Dhabi, the capital. And, remember, Dubai considers the capital to be shockingly dull.

Abu Dhabi, however, is New Orleans compared to Al Ain. It doesn’t even have many interesting shopping malls, which is a staple of entertainment in the UAE.

Al Ain is notable here for a few things. Being a former oasis town and the birthplace of Sheikh Zayed (aka, Father of the Country); having the world’s largest population of Emiratis (bigger than those in Abu Dhabi, Dubai and Sharjah, which are lousy with expats); being the greenest city in the country (the bar is set pretty low); and being the kind of place you go to raise kids, secure in the knowledge that it’s hard to get in trouble there.

So, how does Al Ain celebrate a soccer championship? Well, not with alcohol, which is forbidden by Islam. And even more difficult to get in Al Ain, which has fewer non-Muslims than the other big cities here.

Mostly, the soccer-fan kids get into their little souped up cars and drive slowly up and down the road outside the stadium, honking horns, revving engines and waving Al Ain-purple flags and scarves.

They apparently get bonus points for having most of their bodies outside the cars they are riding in. (The driver, alas, has to stay inside.) One teenager had one leg in the car, and the rest of his body out the window. Several small children sat on the doors of moving cars.

(One of the passengers in our car was muttering “old guy” things about what his father would have done to him if he had “tried that sort of nonsense.”)

The nuttiest thing we saw, while fighting our way out of the stadium after filing our stories for The National, was two kids sitting on the roof — of a moving car.

Upon closer inspection, the car had a sun roof, and the two teens had their heels about two inches inside the vehicle, but any sort of sharp stop or start would have sent them flying. As we crawled along with the celebration, I really did think I would see some kid pitched to his death, and I was sorta not looking.

Another aspect of the celebration was to wave at other Al Ain fans, and take photos of them on your smart phones.

Apparently, this went on for some time. And why not? Al Ain hadn’t won the league title since 2004, and that’s a really long time ago if you’re 18.

I’m trying to think of a U.S. equivalent for Al Ain, and the best I can do is Tucson. (Phoenix is too big.) Yeah. Tucson. The same quietly uneventful life, the same overpowering heat, the same proximity to a poor country (Oman, here; Mexico there).

So, they may have been honking their horns till morning. The local club clinching a championship is a big deal, and the kids weren’t going to miss a chance to blow off some steam.