Here now is a run down of another years worth of soccer lectures (mercifully fewer as I work on talking less and listening more).
Dear Boys,,
53 Ted Lasso, the Capitol Insurrection and why it’s important to remember that before you are anything else, you are the best version of yourself.
54 Hamilton, back up goalkeepers and how you act in a crisis should show who you are, not make you what you want to be.
55 Punjab FC & WandaVision explain why it’s easy to pin blame on one person, but it’s more valuable to comprehend the context.
56 Fighting over a Ukulele, national guard troops in the streets, the European Super League and a reminder that: when you’re afraid, know that you’re not alone.
57 Comparing different forms of the game and leagues around the world to show how equality is an ideal outcome, but equitability helps you do good.
58 Ross County’s new manager and how you don’t have to tolerate intolerance, but you should tolerate people.
59 How Rosenborg and the men’s rights movement illustrate the value of owning your perspective.
60 Olympics, jersey swaps, the end of democracy in Afghanistan and why I hope that you boys find new ways to question expectations.
61 Moana, the Loons, the Griz and why painful moments can serve you well if you walk through them.
62 Accept Failure
63 Changing schools, vaccine denial and how emphasizing that we are all inherently flawed enables us to move forward together.
64 Politics, classroom management, coaches from Freiburg to Missoula and how to stop trying to be a force for change, and instead change your force.
64.5. So…what did we learn from 2021? Well, it was still hard to write something once a month rather than once a week, but I still enjoyed it (and as you both gain greater vocabulary I need to listen more and channel my lectures here only).
Overall this year, there are a lot of things that I can see coming together and coalescing from this blog, but maybe the biggest is this: resist the gut reaction to panic, or judge, or grab for what you think you want. Instead, remember the bigger picture and appreciate where you are and who you’re with.
A few weeks ago, while driving into work, I heard a summary of political philosophy that neatly captured what I see in society, soccer, and myself.
Put simply: everyone wants to act in response to problems we see. Progressives want to do something while conservatives want to stop something in progress or undo something that’s been done.
Dear Boys,
I’m not about to pretend which point of view I prefer (particularly in politics–hint it starts with a P and ends with “rogressive”.) But as the pundits pointed out both instincts can lead to unintended consequences.
Je pense le meme Adrien (from the Athletic)
Start with my progressive view. Like a lot of folks I want to see my teams make some changes when they struggle. That’s when I start begging for Alebrijes to switch their system, or for the Loons to sign a big striker, or for Ross County to bring in a new coach.
But those changes that many in fan bases yearn for don’t yield immediate results and fail as often as they succeed. Alebrijes might not have the players to make any system work. Adrien Hunou might not find the goal for a couple months. Your team may hire a racist…etc. etc.
The conservative approach is no less fraught. The glory days are so enticing that it’s natural to want to go back. Bring back Jessy Benet in Grenoble, increase the focus on the men’s team at Rosenborg, or undo the appointment of the manager with a few weeks under his belt (see: Tottenham Hotspur).
These too assume that everything can return to the way they were (despite the fact that context, and surroundings, and everything else has changed around them). Jessy’s got a new club. Rosenborg aren’t the league titans they once were. Tottenham’s squad isn’t the fresh faced world beaters they were a few years ago.
This is not possible
The same is true at a personal level.
The more I try to make things the way that I want them to be, the more I struggle, grapple, and grow frustrated.
Whether it’s control in the classroom, or getting you boys to brush your teeth when I want you to, the more I try to do/undo something, the less likely I am to do anything differently.
But, when I accept that things are the way they are, and my role is to bring my full self to them, the more I add to the space, add to the experience, and change it for the better.
Being present with you is so much more meaningful for all of us (and makes brushing fun). Sending love and concern into my classroom yields much more than exerting control over the situation.
On the pitch too, bringing your full self into a space can create a better, more valuable experience for everyone. Think of Coach Citowicki in Missoula, whose manners and approach have given kids at a smaller school professional opportunities and enabled a transition from one generation to the next (see Claire Howard and Camila Xu).
When you are fully present rather than distracted by what you want to make happen, you find a pleasure in what is. The Griz can see that Big Sky titles are beautiful themselves. Freiburg’s loyalty and appreciation of the understated Christian Streich has built the environment for their best season in years.
We get caught up talking about and fixating on the forces of change: how the world ought to be and what tools to make it so. We want to be a force for change in the world. But hard as it is, I believe we ought to resist that temptation, and insteadof being a force for change, change your force to quiet grace.
In the last month, Alex has started at a new school. We didn’t expect to move you into a new spot so soon after returning to school, but as parents we know that we can’t control other people, only ourselves.
Surprisingly, that’s not an easy thing to keep in mind. It’s especially hard in our current cultural climate.
Let me explain.
Right now, we’re surrounded by the germs. Yes, still those germs. The ones I wrote about 18 months ago. I’ve been surrounded of late by sick colleagues and inured students and a lingering sense that it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.
Alex’s school was non-plussed, and unwilling to admit that they might be wrong about how they handle it. This made your mom quite upset. What made me frustrated was the blithe assumption that they couldn’t possibly be wrong.
The teachers at Alex’s school aren’t alone. The thoughts are echoed every where, especially in the sports world.
A top basketball player (who attended one of the country’s best colleges, Duke) refuses to be vaccinated. Same with an elite quarterback (who also attended a great school, Cal-Berkley), he frankly gets extra credit awfulness for working in a bag-full of lies about it in interviews. Soccer players around the world are no different, but there doesn’t seem to be many on our favorite teams (it’s not clear if cases in Minnesota and Ross County broke through the vaccine’s barriers or just the regular shoddy defense of both sides).
After 18 months of these germs, many, many, MANY of us are tired. Your mom and I made the choice to do whatever we could to protect you two. After all, you couldn’t get a vaccine. You couldn’t control who came around you, so we opted to do what we could: staying home, getting vaccinated, masking 99% of the places we go (grandma and grandpa do the same, which is why we feel safe being unmasked there).
Klopp (R) Loves a cuddle
The Liverpool coach, and human Gummi Bear, Jurgen Klopp said it extremely well:
“I don’t take the vaccination only to protect me, I take the vaccination to protect all the people around me. I don’t understand why that is a limitation of freedom because, if it is, then not being allowed to drink and drive is a limitation of freedom as well. I got the vaccination because I was concerned about myself but even more so about everybody around me.
But there’s one thing I can’t bring myself to do. I find that I can’t be mad at them. I can’t summon the anger or bitterness that I hear from my colleagues or my friends.
I can’t do it because I recognize that this moment, this assumption of superior knowledge, this misguided belief that running a school or excelling in athletics precludes you from being told what to do by scientific experts is not inherently bad: it’s just an inherent flaw.
Dear Boys,
Too often we get consumed with a black and white vision of the world. We often lean back on assumptions that people are inherently good , or inherently bad. If we can emphasize that we are all inherently flawed, trying our best, and worth challenging with compassion, I think we will be better able to serve one another and move forward together.
To those who insist on the image of themselves as inherently good, we see an assumption that they couldn’t have caused offense. They could not be misinformed. They must be defending their freedom against group think. Anyone who says otherwise is willfully misunderstanding their positive intent and freedom.
To those who insist on the image of our fellow citizens as inherently bad, we see an assumption that there is always malice lurking in the shadows. There’s a desire to lift up oneself and undercut others no matter the cost. There is cold, callous, and cruel calculations in every action or inaction that takes place. Anyone who says otherwise enables the worst among us.
I know that both of those are false. I know because I have spent too much of my life ping-ponging between the two views about myself. I’ve felt like a saint, nobly martyred on the altar of misunderstandings. I’ve seen myself as a vile worm, disgustingly seeking self gain at the cost of my community.
But it’s not true. I’m neither inherently good nor inherently bad. I am (like you, and your friends, family, teachers, sports heroes, and everyone else) flawed.
My flaws arise everywhere, but especially in short temper, which I know you’ve both seen more often than I would like. But I hope that you can forgive me. I hope that you understand that I try, I fail, I try again. And that you can do the same.
I hope the same for those who stamp their feet in a petulant anti-vaccine streak and those who berate the anti-vaxxers for extending our challenges. We try to do right, we fail, we try again.
Athletes try to do right for themselves. Ignoring the science to endanger teammates and fans by transmitting or catching the disease themselves, they fail. I hope they try again.
Alex’s teachers try do right for themselves and their school. Believing that it’s masks are too much trouble, assuming that the way things are now will remain consistent long into the future is a failure. I hope they try to learn again.
Your mom and I opting to do what we can to protect you feels right. If it becomes a failure, I know we will try again.
I’ve honestly sat looking at what to write at this point for six weeks. Every idea seems to slip away like water from my cupped hands.
I’m still stuck.
Maybe there’s something in smugness? How people think they know best when they really don’t. How that’s reflected in Malkay McKay struggling in Ross County? Ehhh…
Maybe there’s something in pretending? With Halloween and you boys having lots of fun. And maybe that ties into Montana versus the world? Nahh…
Maybe there’s something in trying to hard, straining for some great metaphor when it’s okay to just let a thing be itself? Okay, now my ideas are getting too meta.
I think it’s time to call it: this post is a failure.
Dear Boys
Maybe that’s the point. Sometimes you struggle. Sometimes what you do, doesn’t work. Sometimes difficulty just begets difficulty.
I mean, look at…well, a lot of our teams.
Look at Alebrijes. The season is almost at an end, and you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who feels like the team made progress this year, or has reason to be hopeful for next year. There’s mercifully little in the way of offense or defense, few prospects, and only the comforting reassurance of no relegation to spare the team from dropping a league.
Or you could look at Ross County. They went for the gusto by signing a former premier league manager, and they got one lousy win to show for it. There’s some optimism, sure; some players who have seized their moment, but there’s also a whole lot of nothing in Dingwall.
It can be hard when you look at this to find a silver lining. I often try to, I always encourage you to, but honestly, one of the best silver linings is this: accept that you will fail sometimes.
That’s just it. You will fail. I failed in finding a topic for this. I failed to write it on time. I failed to have it be cogent in anyway shape or form. Alebrijes de Oaxaca failed at both ends of the field. Malkay McKay has failed at home and away, in the league and in the cup. Sometimes you fail.
That’s no one’s fault. That’s no reason to quit. That’s no reason to berate yourself. It happens. Don’t sweat it. Don’t obsess. Just accept.
Every time you fail you join a long, illustrious line of other folks who have done the same. Your crumpled paper stands on the same scrap heap as rough drafts by Shakespeare. Your botched game plan can join the pantheon of efforts from legendary managers and players. Don’t deny it. Don’t scramble to fix it. Accept it.
You boys have one love beyond your mother…and it’s not me.
Owen kisses her picture, Alex recites her words and re-enacts her story. You boys love Moana so much she saw you through the long interminable drive through North Dakota not once but twice [Not counting the three times we played the whole soundtrack]
You love lots of moments: Maui’s first appearance, Tomatoa’s defeat, hooks exploding, blow darts in butt cheeks, all the belted songs. But Owen recently adopted a song with a message that felt fresh to me, even after our 218th viewing.
The journey may leave a scar,
but scars can heal and reveal just where you are
–Lin Manuel Miranda “I am Moana”
Dear Boys,
The more I hear it the more I like that line. Honestly, you will have failures in life, lots of them. some of them will hurt so much that it’s hard to carry on
This line doesn’t suggest that the pain makes you stronger. Rather the pain makes you wiser. You know where you are more than who you are. You know enough to plan the next step.
The moment may be painful, even years later, but it can serve you well if you walk through it.
Consider the Loons. I’m writing this as I walk home after their last game in a hellacious week of 3 games in 7 days (all against top 4 opponents). They won tonight but were clobbered in the first two.
The scars of the first two losses sting, reminders that we aren’t elite by any stretch. But they make these moments sweeter. We aren’t great, yet, but we can, and hopefully will be.
The journey to upsets
Or think of the Griz. They actually have some say in their opponents. They could lurk in the mountain west clobbering lower division opponents and only worrying about Big Sky trophies. They could be great in that vacuum, but they choose to go for difficult games to build a squad that can be tournament tough.
They’re not on the cusp of a national championship, but they’re on a journey that aims beyond a tough loss to Creighton, or even stirring upsets of Boise State and Long Beach. Coach Citowicki knows where they are, and is helping them to journey farther.
Mama knows where she is
Simplest of all, remember your family. We drove through North Dakota to do the hard task of saying goodbye. Your mom and grandma could shut down grief and ignore the pain of loss, but going to say goodbye will help them center themselves in the present. Through the goodbyes they remember where they are: here with you, the next generation. Ready to start again.
It certainly isn’t easy, and I understand if you feel like you can’t. But when you can, I hope you remember that in the moment of pain, thinking long term may serve you in ways you can’t imagine.
Despite the unusual circumstances, I’ll always remember this summer’s Olympics as Alex’s first real sports fandom moment.
Each day you were excited to ask “can we watch some Olympics?”
Dear Boys,
It was clear as could be that you liked the Olympics. You were willing to cut back to only one Reading Rainbow a day, and your joy in sharing it with me, with mama, and with your grannies was clearly apparent. After hoping for more swimming at first, you came to enjoy whatever came your way: bike racing, sprinting, relay races, ribbon dancing, diving, it was all fun, and you were all in.
But there was a moment that you missed. A moment, I wish I could capture for you again and again.
That simple question: “can we have two golds?”
It’s such an easy question that it’s a little surprising that no one ever asked it before Mutaz Barshim. [Though, having refereed my share of disputes between you two boys, maybe not terribly surprising.]
“Can we have two golds?”
That kind of question at the height of your sport, the peak of competition, with the eyes of the world on you.
“Can we have two golds?”
I’m blown away by it, because it simply questions every expectation we have in sports. We expect competition. We expect victory and defeat. We expect winners and losers. We expect finality, a degree of absolute fact or truth: one record, one best, that’s it. Either Barshim or Gianmarco Tamberi would be gold medalist. One would be in history books forever. That’s what we expected.
“Can we have two golds?”
That’s something we don’t expect.
In this essay I will analyze how “Grocery Truck” embodies a win at all cost culture…
As Barshim says in his interview, “[Sports] is a tool for us to come together.” So, what if, instead of the expected delineation between winners and losers, what if we sought to celebrate moments where we share.
It’s certainly not easy. Even in soccer, one of the few sports where teams may share the same number of points, it’s a challenge. I can’t tell you the number of times growing up I heard friends ask “how can you like that? can’t you like…tie?” The tie was a complete unknown to us. One team won, one team lost. It might take slo-mo instant replay, but you could figure out who came first and who came last. [To paraphrase one of your preferred Little Blue Truck Books]
Bobby Moore (L) and Pele (R)
Soccer draws are often frustrating for fans, we often come away thinking about the two points dropped rather than the one point gained. But truth to tell, even if they coulda-shoulda-won….they could-woulda lost if something else had gone amiss. Maybe that’s why soccer players often come away from the end of a match with appreciation for the other side, swapping jerseys and exchanging pleasantries no matter how bitter the blow is.
The players understand that the game is one thing, but life is another. We fans, we citizens, we don’t always understand that.
Sadder still, we have taken the sport mentality, the thirst for victory, well beyond cheering on our local team/high jumper. Lots of people look to gloat at the failures of their rivals.
In the wake of the fall of Afghanistan and the deaths of innocent people, there are some who have seized this moment to denounce not violence, not human rights violations, but their political opponents. They don’t bother to acknowledge the suffering of people, the desperation and fear, but instead they demand we blame someone…someone other than them. At the same time, there are those who fight back. Pinning the blame back on those who are criticizing the failure. In their own way, seeking to score a win in the history books for their side, regardless of what failure is happening on the other side of the world.
It’s strange that in a serious moment of humanity we seek to push others down still further, but in a moment of fevered competition, Barshim and Tamberi chose to lift each other up.
I write these words knowing that you boys will probably never be olympians, or soccer stars, or have the fate of an armed invasion on your hands. But whatever you do, I hope you boys find new ways to question expectations.
As you grow up boys, you should know that every thing you say and do has consequences. Missteps and misdeeds are shared more broadly and more quickly than ever. And more and more people are ready to denounce those people they find lacking.
Some see that as overreacting. But as one of my colleagues told me: If you tolerate intolerant people, then you are tolerating intolerance.
Dear Boys,
There is an ideal symbol for this debate right now in the manager’s office in Dingwall, Scotland (not far from where your centuries-past MacKenzie relatives tilled the field and apprenticed to tailors). Malky Mackay is officially the Staggies manager, and he has said and done more than a few things that are blatantly, obviously, intolerant.
These statements (reviewed in more detail here) aren’t tone deaf moments, or failures to understand. They’re straight up, no questions asked, racist, sexist, anti-Semitic, and homophobic. Mackay’s offenses are clear. But County’s hiring him is less so.
Photo from Ross-Shire Journal
If you agree that tolerating such an intolerant man is, itself, an act of intolerance, then County’s decision to hire him, suggests tolerance for those abhorrent views. Fans decision to cheer the Stags who execute his game plan suggests the same. But things aren’t that simple.
The strongest complicating force is that many people, myself included, feel a philosophical, almost spiritual calling to forgive others. I believe, truly, that others deserve not just second chances, but third, fourth…infinite chances.
That seems inherently unfair in some cases. After all, if everyone knows they will get more chances, than those who make racist, sexist, anti-Semitic, or homophobic statements/actions may never really face consequences. If people know that we’ll tolerate their misdeeds, then everything we do will enable intolerance.
But here’s the distinction I make, and I hope you boys consider as you make up your own mind: you don’t tolerate the intolerance, you tolerate the people.
The word “tolerance” has come to mean “authorizing the existence of something unpleasant”. But the word’s Latin root (and another meaning of the word) is “endurance of pain”.
There’s a flawed logic in the idea that we can authorize or de-authorize any person. It assumes that we have a power to make other people do what we want. It suggests that some people are superior to others [better, holier, etc.].
Endurance is more passive, and more realistic. We don’t like to admit or face the fact that we CAN’T change the world, or even other people. But the truth is we can’t. Sometimes, all you can do is endure the relationship with a man who makes your skin crawl and stomach churn. And that is the stage we are at with Mr. Mackay.
I don’t authorize MacKay’s statements. I haven’t found a Staggies fan yet who does. I hope the Ross County board was explicitly clear with him. I hope they made clear that any such repeated statements, in public, or in his capacity as team manager (ie. discussing players/agents/owners/opponents/fans, etc), will not be tolerated. The penalty should be swift, and immediate, including termination of contract and repayment of wages (preferably to be donated to organizations that do reflect the club’s goals and mission). Such a requirement makes clear that Mackay is being tolerated, but intolerant actions will not.
Original Obelisk to the Earl of Cromarty (Sir George MacKenzie)…endured 200 years (a smaller replica has stood for 100 years itself)
I hope Mackay does well. I hope he apologizes for his past intolerance and works to build a better community in the weeks and months ahead. I hope he coaches a team that stays up. I hope his players learn from him and grow toward their full potential. (Given his half-hearted apologies and lousy managerial record, I anticipate doing much more “enduring” than admiring, but time will tell.)
I have no power over Malky Mackay, or the Ross County board, or anyone else anywhere on the planet. I cannot authorize or de-authorize anyone. I will oppose his intolerant actions/beliefs by not paying for any County seats or paraphernalia during Mackay’s tenure. But I will endure Malky Mackay. Managers come and go, but love for heritage, love for people, love for the Staggies, will endure.
When I was a kid (just what every child longs to hear) we heard a lot about equality. Teaches, pastors, and friends on Sesame Street urged me to “Treat everyone equally”. Your grandpa Bruce often got misty thinking of how we were finally “living up to the ideal that all men are created equal.”
They were fine sentiments, but misinformed. The world isn’t equal, nor does it treat everyone equally. What’s more, equality is more of an ideal outcome than a single act. Put it simply: equality sounds good, but often equitability helps you do good. So, a year after I taught you to say “fuck you white supremacy,” let’s take a moment to understand these distinctions with the help of soccer.
Dear Boys,
First, some definitions. Equality is grounded in the idea of sameness. Both of you boys deserve healthy bones and valuable vitamins, so you both get an equal amount of milk at every meal.
Equitability is grounded in the idea of addressing need. Owen doesn’t have the same level of muscle control or patience as Alex. So, while you get an equal share of milk you get an equitable access to cups. (Plain ones for Big A, sloshy/bottle-esque ones for Baby O)
As a teacher, I aim for equality in assigning tasks and assessing performance. I aim for equitability when I provide levels of guidance based on student’s developmental needs and language levels.
The fundamentals of the kitchen table and middle school lesson plans work in global systems of sports, business and culture too.
Let’s make it “WeBelieve”
Sometimes equality is equitable. Women’s soccer is the same game as men’s. The players must train the same muscles, execute the same plays, and use the same equipment as men.
So those of us who watch, talk, and write about the sport should be equitable and provide the Women’s game equality in coverage. That’s certainly my goal, though I feel that I can still improve. But I hope you boys are as excited by Julie Blakstad, Hasret Kayikci, and Claire Howard as you are by Facundo Barcelo, Vincenzo Grifo, and Dayne St Clair.
The entire league system of promotion and relegation is designed to be equal. If you develop and retain talent, you can beat anyone. Then, match by match, step by step you can go from a tiny hamlet to the dominant club in the league. (Modern money might make that highly implausible, it it is still a remote possibility)
That’s the idea at least, but there are many who despair that this model isn’t applied equally across the globe. But this would be where what’s equal isn’t equitable. Each country has its own unique need for the game. Each competition ought to be for itself.
Relegation works where interest in the game is dominant, and supply is wide spread.
Gagnons Les Sommets
In Germany Freiburg has rallied from the third league to be a reliable presence in the top flight. In Serbia, the very real chance of Vozdovac falling down a level provides energy and purpose to fans in a middling season. In France, the thrill of even possible promotion has rallied a community.
These all reflect places where equality works. But they also reflect an enduring love of the game and commitment of community. (Germany and France each hold multiple world titles, and Serbia’s former home of Yugoslavia came close. All three countries routinely produce players on the globe’s top clubs, and their fans are legion)
But that’s not the case for all countries, or even most. So applying one model equally to all countries wouldn’t be equitable.
Take Scotland, a country where the game has faded in recent years. In response, they made a small switch, splitting the league in half so you play your peers when it matters most. So Ross County’s survival didn’t depend on Kilmarnock taking a thrashing from Celtic, but rather on the Staggies taking points from their peers.
What American advocates imagine
Other countries made a bigger change. Neither India, nor the US have relegation, and Mexico hast postponed theirs for five years. Mexico’s choice comes in response to the financial uncertainty around clubs after the pandemic. That uncertainty is multiplied in India and the states. Neither has a long standing pro league. Both have huge countries to navigate and sparse rivalries or travel opportunities for fans.
India and the US are not France and Germany, or even Serbia and Scotland. Forcing these younger leagues to adopt an equivalent process would be foolish and might deter development of players, clubs and ultimately the game.
In time we in the US may be ready for relegation, but now, knowing when to be equitable and when to be equal is vital. (Less vital for an amusing sport than for say the future of public education and the federal government, but still…important…ish).
Both equality and equitability are important, but when you understand how to apply each, you’re in a much better place.
As I was puzzling over what to write about, you boys gave me an idea. As you often do.
Alex was playing with a truck as Owen picked up his Ukelele. Immediately, the world seemed to be ending. Alex was convinced that Owen was taking the Uke and would “NEVER EVER GIVE IT BACK!!!” Cue tears and a confused Owen tightening his grip and thus more tears.
I asked you both the next day what scared you. Owen, with his growing vocabulary said “baaah” his word for bottle (distinct from buh/ball or bu-inba/bowling ball). Alex said “nothing.”
“Really,” said I, “it seems like you often are afraid that whatever someone else has something you like. Like when Owen touches your Ukele. Does that scare you?”
“Oh…yeah…I’m scared of that.”
“Why?”
“Because…it’s mine…and he’s taking it and then HE’LL NEVER GIVE IT BACK. NOT EVER!!”
“I can see that would be scary. What do you do when you’re scared?”
Dear Boys,
Alex: “I scream!”
Owen: [makes deep breathing noise]–note Owen actually screams when he’s scared, but he already knows what I hope he’ll do.
When you’re afraid, you react naturally. But you also are more prone to make mistakes, overreact and generally get sucked into a bigger problem. Fear makes you ready to fight (as shown when you boys push eachother for toys), or flee (as when you run off to another room in tears), or freeze (when you can’t do anything else but scream).
Falling after the fight (Metro Sports)
Easy as it would be to say, “it’s a phase”, and “you’ll grow out of it,” the reality is lots of people do lots of dumb fight, flight, or flee activities when they’re afraid. Both as individuals, organizations, and even teams.
Take the spate of penalties that have sprung up for teams like Grenoble, Ross County, and Vozdovac.
As the season comes to its conclusion each team has a lot riding on every game. Grenoble is approaching the top tier of French football, Ross County and Vozdovac are fighting to stay afloat and avoid relegation. In that context every ball, every opportunity carries greater and greater weight. So, in fear, foolish challenges occur. Penalties are awarded and Grenoble’s wins become draws. County and Vozdovac see points sail away from the spot.
Enough to make anyone freeze (StarTribune)
That’s a fight response. In our neighborhood this week, there’s been a lot more freezing.
The Derek Chauvin trial came to its end. The mountain of evidence, eye witnesses, and expert testimony were enough to hold the officer who killed a man in broad daylight to be held accountable. But all around us there were signs of people and groups freezing. Before the verdict, national guard troops arrived on our block to keep the peace (despite the fact that there was no unrest in the first place). I’ll be frank. I froze when I saw them. Big trucks. Big guns. Right where I pick up the dog’s poop…I didn’t want to go anywhere. That was the hope, but it was a hope based on our fear of the other outcome.
Double the flight (from AlJazeera)
And we even got a textbook example of fleeing in fear this week. Twelve of the biggest teams in the world–teams who could buy and sell our 11 favorites ten times over–announced their plans to flee their current leagues lest they lose, and lose their business. Their fear of failure, of more losses, led them to plan on fleeing their current positions for something that seemed more certain.
And when the backlash was swift. When fans around the world, and players from every team, and coaches, and legends of the game, and politicians all announced that it was stupid, the teams fled again. This time they fled the super league from fear of losing the support they had assumed would follow them. Again they were afraid, and again they fled as fast as their legal briefs could carry them.
These reactions, fight, flight, and flee, are natural. They’re nothing to abandon or grow beyond. They are human responses. You boys are every bit as human as a desperate defender, a local leader, a billionaire owner, or a global soccer icon.
When you’re afraid, know that you’re not alone. If you make a mistake based on your fear, you have good company. If you want help, you have hosts of people who have been through it before.
Fear makes us do foolish things. That’s okay. Just know that fools always have company.
Nobody likes to take the blame for the problems we face. When emotions run high and pain runs deep, being the one who takes the blame hurts.
Sometimes you can shift the blame to someone else, something else, extenuating circumstances or unwieldy fate. Sometimes you can’t. But it’s worth remembering that same feeling when you are blameless and you start looking around for someone to accuse.
It’s easy to pin blame on one person, it’s more valuable to comprehend the context.
Dear Boys,
Hard core sports fans like to say that they live and die with the team’s performance. Of course, they don’t really have a death wish, so rather than jumping off a bridge because of a blow out or a bad beat, they tend to pin the blame on a player turned scapegoat. Consider Punjab FC, who slipped in form after a strong month of showings just when they needed it most.
An all too common sight of late for Punjab (see Saurabh, #3) via Golukam Kerala Club Site
To most eyes, the disappointing results fall on the shoulders of a few rookie defenders. First Surabh Banwala gifted a penalty to Golukam, then the defense and Souvik Das were caught flatfooted against Mohamedan, and Mohammed Irshad made a gaffe against TRAU, and before you could say “pakora” the title hopes were in tatters.
But making Banwala or Das or Irshad the scapegoat for a poor turn in form at the last minute ignores all the context that goes with it.
Sure the defenders are easy to see slipping, but they don’t operate alone. As teams bottle up Chencho Gyeltshen and Baba Diawara, goals become rarer. And defenders push up to add to the attack. And that leaves the defense more vulnerable to miscues. So, yes the defense slipped but they might not have if the offense had continued firing.
Curtis Fleming watching it all come undone Via Kehl Now
Even roping in the offense ignores most of the people on the pitch. There’s a whole second team out there, as well as officials. To put Punjab off their game, Golukam, Mohamedan and TRAU had to be on theirs. While their assigned referees whistled for fouls, others might have missed the mark. You can’t control how others play, you can’t control how refs perform. so yes, the defense slipped but would we have noticed if the referees had missed it or if other teams hadn’t capitalized?
This is to say nothing of the complexity beyond the field. The defense can’t control coaching tactics, or training field injuries, or the intense two match a week schedule. One player making one mistake is a comforting target for blame, but it ignores how complex human life is.
All of this is borne out by the current pop culture obsession of our quarantined community: Wandavision.
Wanda Vision Promo
After a year without daring deeds and heroic exploits, super hero stories came back with a bang. And while you’re still too young for more than five minutes of cartoon adventures, the broader public has gone deep on the story of one superhero, Wanda Maximoff, who commandeers a small town and all the people in it to allay her grief at another devastating loss.
Wanda as hero/villain Scarlet Witch (via Sportskeeda)
To be sure, forcing people to do what you say without giving them a choice is cruel and immoral. Wanda’s actions here aren’t remotely heroic. At series end she is judged harshly and has been thoroughly criticized by viewers of all stripes.
But demanding that Wanda be punished ignores so much more complexity that surrounds her.
For starters, Wanda isn’t divine goodness personified. She also human, and demanding more of her than we do other fallible humans seems unfair. As your mom said, “she’s not a super hero; she’s a person with super powers”.
Add to that the fraught relationship the rest of the world seems to have with superheroes. At once seeing them as saviors, pleading with them for help at every turn, and limiting them to obedient servitude (particularly with regulations requiring them to check their free will).
Wanda in context (Via CBR.com)
In that context, Wanda using her powers to their full potential is less cruel and more a side effect of the position the society around her put her in. Wanda could inaccurately think she’s helping the bedraggled and woebegone residents of a dilapidated New Jersey town to have amusing, idyllic lives. She’s using her powers, and she’s using them for herself and others. Society put her in a position to have these phenomenal powers, when she uses them, we can’t exactly be astonished.
These aren’t excuses or dismissals they are complications. You don’t have to forgive (and certainly on field gaffes isn’t the same as perpetual manipulation), but given the choice between chastising and complicating first thoughts, I hope you take the time to consider the complicated context.
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