84. The Right Fight

84. The Right Fight

Dear Boys,

The men of the MacKenzie family have a particular weakness for speechifying.

We enjoy jalapeno kettle chips more than we ought to, and we all think we’re much funnier than anyone ever tells us, but our real flaw is speechifying.

So, naturally, we love the movies and plays of Aaron Sorkin, who never encountered a conflict that couldn’t be solved with a rousing, well-intentioned speech by an educated white guy.

With all those flaws, it should be little surprise that this bit from his film The American President is one of my favorite lines in all of film.

That’s a rallying cry that your uncles, your grandfather, your second cousins and pretty much anybody who has been in the room with us in a serious debate knows and knows well. It’s speechifying 101. It’s catnip to our big dumb man-cat brains.

It’s also a good way to live.

And it’s why I was utterly livid at the attitude of moronic speechifying men after the Women’s World Cup.

Infantino…looking for a clue.

Start with FIFA President, Gianni Infantino. The Swiss dollar store Mr. Clean substitute, concluded one of the most balanced women’s world cups in history, one of the most exciting and truly globalized celebrations of women in sports with an utterly tone deaf and moronic attempt to mansplain what women who want things to keep improving ought to do:

“Pick the right battles. Pick the right fights. You have the power to change. You have the power to convince us men what we have to do and what we don’t have to do. You do it. Just do it.”

….

“[Equal pay for men’s and women’s world cup teams] would not solve anything. It might be a symbol but it would not solve anything, because its one month every four years and its a few players out of the thousand and thousands of players.”

Gianni Infantino

Okay so awkwardly…I agree with a lot of the first paragraph. I want to encourage people to make advocate for change. But I’m a shmo on a keyboard in Minnesota opining to my kids. Gianni Infantino is in charge of international soccer from the highest to the lowest levels. Fighting the fights that need fighting is a laudable goal. It’s advice I give to you and to my students. It isn’t advice I dole out to people who are trying to get me to change my mind about a policy I can control.

Infantino’s call to action isn’t “GO GET EM!”, it’s more “get off my back already and go do something that matters.”

For proof look at the second paragraph quoted. Women players at the elite level have been agitating for equal pay (goodness knows the American women certainly deserve it given how wildly they outperform their male counterparts). So for Infantino to toss it away as meaningless and symbolic after telling people to advocate for change is a complete Not-In-My-BackYard, psuedo-supporter cop out.

Infantino could make equal pay in the professional game, the confederation tournaments, the club level, a requirement to host or play in FIFA’s gold-standard tournaments. Pushing athlete-activists to go somewhere else and give up on a goal he could help influence is a big ol’ sack of bull-puckey.

So here’s a more honest translation of Infantino’s mealy-mouthed attempt at unity

“Look, gimme a break alright. You want all these things so bad, go ask other people to do it…I don’t know what you could ask for or who you could ask, but I want you to do it somewhere other than here.

I know you’ve wanted equal pay…but, no. I’m not convinced, and as I said before…I’m tired of hearing you ask for it, so go ask someone else.”

–Gianni Infantino’s Inner-Monologue (SATIRE)

And yet, Infantino’s comments are only one prong of the pitchfork of stupid that ended the world cup. The other end belonged to the president of the Spanish federation, Luis Rubiales.

After watching a collection of superb athletes win the world championship, Rubiales decided it was a good time to grab star player Jenni Hermoso and give her a kiss on the lips.

Jenni Hermoso: Awesome Person

When people said it was wrong, he said those people were “idiots and stupid people”. When Hermoso told an interviewer that she “didn’t like it”, he (and his office) pretended that she made a statement claiming it was “natural celebration”. When the government called it “a form of sexual violence” and likened it to long running issues in Spanish society, he complained that it was all “false feminism, that doesn’t seek justice or truth.” Even when Hermoso filed a criminal complaint, he insisted he wouldn’t resign.

All the speechifying and justification and stubbornness in the world couldn’t cover up that Luis Rubiales crossed a line, and that Hermoso and her allies were fighting for what they believed in.

In the end they won. In the end, I hope and believe that those advocating for equal pay for women athletes will win. In the end, I believe that the fight will be won, and that the simplistic scratch satisfied by a bit of well-intentioned speechifying will lose.

The women’s world cup is great, but the players symbolize more than tremendous performers. They embody one of my favorite bits of speechifying in the face of some of my least favorite speechifying.

You don’t fight the fights you can win. You fight the fights that need fighting.

Grateful for the Hard Stuff

Grateful for the Hard Stuff

As I write this it is Thanksgiving.

As I write this I feel thankful.

I also feel terrible.

Dear Boys,

I know that there’s a (digital) stack of essays still waiting to be graded from two weeks ago. I know that there’s a pile up of discarded ideas and old summaries that I ought to work on for this website. I know that there’s a pretty descent novel manuscript that I just cannot get back around to editing because my brain can’t handle responsibilities of refining writing, creating lesson plans, instituting parenting strategems and maintaining our basic household functions.

I feel like a failure, like a pretender and a clown. I feel like I’m clogged up in emotions and anxieties and wants and wishes. I feel guilty and ashamed to be dwelling on my feelings and my desires when you, my sons, are growing up all around me. Why am I trying to do stuff for myself when you need things? Shouldn’t you get love, affection, support, structure? Shouldn’t that be my top priority and I be able to release all the shame and guilt and wanting to write?

It feels like the wanting to do other things is selfish. And yet giving up on doing them feels awful too. It feels like co-signing the notion that I’m only one thing: rather than a whole and complex person. It feels like bottling up all my humanity and putting on a mask of plastic passivity. It feels like admitting that this project is a waste of time and gigabytes…and so are my ideas…and so am I.

Yes, I’m being melodramatic. Yes, I’m overanalyzing every aspect of the situation. Yes, there’s room for both me being your parent and me being myself. But it’s also true and natural that there’s a lot of emotional baggage that comes with all of that.

This is the hard part.

And this is why I am grateful.

A lot of the time when we say goodnight and I ask you what you’re thankful for, we name people we love and things that were fun. We’re always grateful for Momma, and eachother, and we give regular shout outs to grandparents, Pokemon, Frozen stories, Mini the cat, spaghetti sauce, bath bombs and butterflies.

We don’t usually name the things that go wrong, or the people who frustrate us. We don’t say we’re grateful for having a huge upset or tantrum. We don’t say we’re thankful for the mean words at school, or the swift rushes to denigrate ourselves. We don’t sit around the Thanksgiving table to say thank you for cruelty, or for war, or for the burnt vegetables.

But those things all help us in their own ways. We learn how to handle our emotions. We see the beauty and resilience of who we are despite the anger of ourselves and others. We learn to be kind, to seek peace, and to laugh at mistakes.

Roundglass Punjab has had a rough go of it in the top division of Indian soccer. It has been hard to score goals and harder still to hold leads. They sit at the bottom of the table and have the worst goal differential in the league.

Khaiminthang Lhungdim runs away from another celebrating team. (From Devidiscourse.com)

They don’t like losing. But they are getting better, more refined and more able to compete each and every time they play. Punjab won’t put together a championship campaign this time around, but they will have the season they need to, learn from it, and be better because of it.

I’m grateful that I’m having a hard time writing, it makes me remember what I really like: doing it…not meeting a goal or hitting a deadline, just writing.

I’m grateful that I’m dealing with a wide array of emotions and thoughts when it comes to doing what I want and being who I want to be. It will help me find the balance I need to live.

The world is full of hard stuff these days. There’s a lot to mourn, to fight, to critique and to dislike. But we can learn from it, we can grow from it, we can find what we want in the inverse of what we don’t like. So, like it or not, we should be grateful for the hard stuff.

Nobel FC (2023): Jon Fosse

Nobel FC (2023): Jon Fosse

Background

Fosse is only the fourth Norwegian to win the highest award in literature, and the first one in almost a century (but there’s totally not a Swedish Norwegian rivalry…goodness no). Born in Southwestern, Norway (in the town of Haugesund…a frequent opponent of our favorite Rosenborg sides), he committed himself to writing after an early accident left him confronting mortality. But while he was always a writer, he almost opted to focus instead on being a rock ‘n’ roll musician. He opted to continue studying and building his authorial voice being called (in different turns) a Modern Ibsen, or a Norwegian Beckett, culminating in the Nobel committee naming him its laureate “for his innovative plays and prose which give voice to the unsayable”

Works

God is so far away that no one can say anything about him and that’s why all ideas about God are wrong, and at the same time he is so close that we almost can’t notice him, because he is the foundation in a person, or the abyss, you can call it whatever you want

all good art has this spirit, good pictures, good poems, good music and what makes it good is not the material, not matter, and its not the content the idea, the thought, no, what makes it good is just this unity of matter and form and soul that becomes spirit…prayer and confession and penance all at once…

God is love and love is inconceivable without free will…

Jon Fosse from A New Name (parts VI and VII of the Septology, published 2022 in translation by Damion Searles

Message

Stream of conscious writing isn’t my favorite, and it can be almost impenetrable, but Fosse’s work was surprisingly smooth and comforting. Everything in the work I read A New Name played beautiful with random chance, doubled identities, parallel realities and the indescribable unity of everything. If I can put an overly simplistic button on it, I would say: there is an absurdity to everything we say and think and do, and that absurdity is part of the beauty of life.

Position: #8 Box to Box Midfielder

Fosse’s style is so fluid, so wide ranging, and so impossible to pin down (intentionally so given the stream of conscious style) that the only position that can do him justice is the #8 role, where he has the freedom to push forward or drop back as he pleases. And indeed, he, his work, and everything he offers can be both fulcrum of the attack and anchor of the defense all at the same moment.

Sound off in the comments below to share your thoughts on the newest member of the Nobel FC Family

Next Time (Rewind the Clocks, we’re going to catch up on one that we missed in our Mess of 03’s, and another Norwegian to boot) 1903 Honoree–Bjornsterne Bjornson