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87. How we see disagreement

87. How we see disagreement

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This has been a bloody awful year.

You kids are great. My life is great. But all around are signs that bloodshed, violence, anger, and alienation from our fellow men is increasing.

Dear Boys,

The war in Ukraine (against Russia and the man Alex has dubbed “Vladmir Poo-Poo-Putin”) has reached a stage of bloody attrition, with mounting death tolls for Russia and mounting apathy for allies of the invaded Ukranians.

An invasion of Israel to abduct civilians (including children like yourselves) has led a nation founded as a refuge to relentlessly attack civilians (including children like yourselves) in Gaza who are being used as human shields by terorrists.

There is a brutal genocide happening in Sudan, a rise in political extremism throughout Europe and Latin America, and rumblings of other invasions by other powers.

And against this backdrop, so many people have become absolutists in the inviobility of their positions. They are certain that they are right and all others are wrong. There is no room for nuance. No space for moderation. No tolerance for complexity. Any public questions or doubts are traitorous.Any silence in response to an attack is just passive warmongering.

This absolutism is maddeningly consistent for both sides of every argument. The loudest voices don’t agree on what is happening or what should be done, but they do agree that anyone who doesn’t support their point of view is awful.

This bizarre discord in our world appears everywhere. I even see it reiterated on the soccer pitch. In this case, in the presence of Roundglass Punjab.

Punjab is a beautiful corner of India. I lived and taught just to the east of it, and I count the trips I took into the state (including Chandigargh and Amritsar) to be some of the highlights of my time spent on the subcontinent.

Punjab has long stood apart from the rest of the country. The language (Punjabi) is not the same as the dominant national language (Hindi). The economy is not the same as the increasingly modernized economy (agriculture v. information processing). Most importantly of all, the religions are different.

Me in Amritsar, at the holy shrine of Sikhism, the Golden Temple in 2006
(the history of its building, destruction, and rebuilding, is directly related to this essay)

In Punjab, the primary faith is Sikhism, a faith of tolerance and peace in the spirit of founder Guru Nanak. Throughout most of the rest of India, the primary faith is Hinduism, a faith of tolerance and peace that has marked the world for about 4,000 years. Despite their shared values, there has been a long history of dispute and dissent between those who want to carve out a part of Punjab to become a Sikh nation (Khalistan) and a group that does not. These disputes led to violent attacks, terrorism and assassination back in the 1980s but largely eased by the time I was living there (my work visas were approved by the government of Sikh Prime Minister Manmohan Singh).

However, with the rise of Narendra Modi (Singh’s successor) and his political view that considers Hinduism and India to be one in the same…things get blurry. Advocates for Sikhism get some dubious looks. And doubly so if they happen to advocate for Punjab to separate from India and become its own nation.

So how do you handle this? The long history of rebellion and violence is scary…so should you attack and destroy the thing that scares you? Should you demonize and eliminate the dissent that could lead to danger?

Obviously, I would answer no. Unfortunately (if predictably in 2023), it looks like Modi’s government is answering yes.

Dangers are real. Historical pain and conflict are real too. The fear of unrest, further violence, and death is undoubtedly a real feeling. I have no problem admitting that there are real things to worry about, and that worry itself is real too.

But unity is also real. Teamwork is real too. The human ability to grow and understand and collaborate is really, really real.

After all, right now, in the same city where Narendra Modi sits and stews and supervises those so afraid that they lash out in murderous rage across an ocean (I’m not saying he’s involved directly…relax Modi-stans), there’s a team playing. A team coached by a Greek, captained by a Slovenian, led in attack by a Frenchman and a Spaniard, and with a first choice defense of Matharatis, Keralans, and Nepalis. This team’s home field, under renovation in Punjab, is named for the Sikh Guru, and its instagram is chock-a-block with videos of the team’s outreach to rural villages in the state. In each one, you can see young Punjabi kids learning the game and laughing with each other.

Punjab FC may play in New Delhi (for now), but they clearly care about their community, in the same way Sikh separatists do. It seems highly likely that there are Sikh separatists who cheer the Shers every match day, and may mix discussion of their political goals with conversations about Juan Mera’s dip in production.

Looks like a pretty positive force to me

Since soccer clubs bind up a community and communities often have political goals (see Barcelona, Rangers/Celtic, and even Minnesota United), this could be worrying. If you look at the world with fear: fear of unrest, upheaval, unified opposition and dangerous dissent…you can see Roundglass Punjab as a revolutionary organization in the making.

But if you look at the world with appreciation and optimism, a respect for free will, and a connection between all people regardless of their politics…you can see Roundglass Punjab as revolutionary organization in the making…one that can make the whole nation better.

There are Sikh separatists who are dangerous, and there are Sikh separatists who are not. There are Modi-stans who let their fear drive them to crime, and there are those who do not. There are Palestinans and Israelis, Ukranians and Russians, Sudanese, Korean, Venezuelan, Chinese, Taiwanese, and Hungarian people who abhor war and authoritarianism and strive to create peace each and every day. They do so by remembering the opportunity of each day and the truth that disagreement is not diabolical.

67. Feel the Power

67. Feel the Power

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

You boys have a great fondness for super heroes.

Dear Boys,

I mean, who doesn’t? Superheroes are awesome. Your uncles and I often spent afternoons being Batman, Robin and any number of different bad guys. You boys prefer Spiderman (he is cooler, to be honest) and also have room in your hearts for PJ Masks, Ms Marvel, and your own inventions: Builder Spider [Spiderman with construction powers], and Red Cape.

Superheroes are cool, and superhero stories are great. But there’s something that can get confused in the fun of saving the day.

Powers are fun, and the heroes behind them are often great. But power isn’t part of people.

Super heroes tend to come by their powers in unusual ways (radioactive spider bites, other worldly mists, tragic backstories plus ninja training, magical pajamas…) but all of them are people first, and then empowered people. Heroes hold on to their humanity and don’t confuse themselves with their powers.

With good reason. Power can make someone more than a person. Give them enough power and it can make them feel and seem superior. When that power embeds itself in a person it becomes easier and easier to confuse yourself for the power you enjoy and justify all manner of unfair habits, tactics, and tendencies.

Superpowers are easy enough to see as imaginary. But there’s a real problem with power in the real world too. In our world lot’s of people have power, and even more want it. That power might be physical, it might be political, it might be social, it might be economic. Once people have it they start to obsess over holding on to it. And when people confuse themselves with the power they hold, they can be downright dangerous.

Christian Streich knows power lies within (bayernstrikes.com)

Consider, the ways that soccer coaches struggle to acknowledge that they’ve made a mistake. You might find the occasional coach (Citowicki or Streich) who owns their mistakes, but many others find a way to turn it around and blame it on the players they work with (cou*Heath*gh!). It can save your job, it can keep your power. But to what end?

You can see it among players too. Players who earn a bevy of awards and heaps of praise have a tendency to see themselves as bigger than the game. It’s why many players end up in trouble: their power creates a sense that they are more than others, and then they forget what other people need (witness tax evasion, blackmail, mafia connections, and assault).

The man behind the “muscle” (The Economist)

At it’s worst, this obsession with power can drive a whole country off the rails. I certainly see it in domestic politics as people ignore what’s good for the country as a whole when there’s a political point to be scored. Even worse is the poop butt in Russia whose need for consistent power has led him to attack innocent neighbors and endanger his own soldiers for no reason other than increasing his empire and his need for validation.

There’s so many examples of power corrupting, twisting minds and actions to their worst ends that it’s easy to come away with a cynical view. But I have hope.

I believe that human nature is good. I believe that our shared humanity will lead us to do the right thing, even though our individual desires beckon us to do the wrong thing. Above all else I see you boys planning all kinds of ways to “save the day” and I think, “power doesn’t have to corrupt, you just have to know that it’s something you use, not something you keep.”

59. Power of Perspective

59. Power of Perspective

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I have a favorite thing to read, one that both boys have heard me read often. It’s a weekly magazine published in London and sent to us and millions of others around the world: The Economist.

I started reading it on long Saturdays in Montana towns, working with my friend Brian to keep aware of world affairs. Your mom rekindled my love for it, and for the past 11 years I’ve rarely missed an issue. I’ve even read chunks to the both of you (which was easier when you were wee babies than it is now).

Dear Boys,

The Economist covers just about everything under the sun. Even an article a week has better informed me about passions of mine (international education, diplomacy, race) and cares of friends and family (Scottish independence, Ghanaian funerals, Hindu nationalism). But most relevant here is when it talks about soccer.

In the madness of the last few weeks I read one article that touched on soccer in a way that lines up neatly with this blog and my advice to you. To wit, soccer is a blank slate, and what we see in the game is a reflection of us. I’ll just tack on this thought to an already sterling column: acknowledge that your perspective is just that, your own.

Consider one of my most common topics in all these posts: how awesome Rosenborg Kvinner are.

To me, the story of RBKK is a story of cohesion, cooperation, teamwork and excellence achieved. We cover the exploits of Blakstad, Utland, and Rulyte because they are excellent, and covering women’s teams with as much enthusiasm as we have for men’s teams is only fair. I believe women deserve equal pay and recognition…I can’t change the pay but I can definitely add to the recognition in my own small way.

But that is my perspective.

Across the street from us, during the annual street festival each year, is a stand for the Minnesota Men’s Rights Group who advocate for men as a disadvantaged group (despite our disproportionate power politically, socially, culturally and economically). As part of the “Mano sphere” they believe that the limited erosion in our strength over the past few decades is discriminatory, and traditional (male dominated) society should be restored.

If you were to show some of their members (to say nothing of the radical wings of the internet) they would see something very different. (I know…I’ve heard it in real life already).

To them, this is another sign of the diminishment of men. I’m too hidebound by political correctness to acknowledge that the men’s game is superior. I’m too scared of my own authority to put the men’s game, the better game, first. That women are playing at all is a sign of how weakened men are in the first place. That I’m “pushing” these ideas on you will further weaken the future of men. (And that’s before we get into some of the more crude assumptions about soccer being effeminate in the first place).

That is there perspective.

I believe that my perspective is founded in truth, optimism, and equality, and theirs is founded on fear. Therefore, I think my reading is both more accurate and better for your future in society than theirs.

But of course I do. I’m writing this thing.

It’s less about whose perspective is right and whose is wrong (for the record, I’m right…me…your dad). It’s more about the fact that we each voice our perspective, and that soccer gives us both a space to explore our beliefs and a means to express them.

Soccer helps us to talk about gender and equality, about race and prejudice, about capitalism, socialism, authoritarianism, colonialism, and any number of other ideals, beliefs, questions, and issues that arise.

Whatever you take away from it, that’s your perspective. You can and should acknowledge that it’s one perspective among many. By all means, hear others, consider different points of view, and refine and revise your perspective as you feel best.

It can be very easy to seek ways to blame others, or insist that you have cornered the market on truth. But when you acknowledge the power your own perception has over what you see, you acknowledge that you know you’re thinking. You acknowledge that you have a power to think critically rather than believe blindly. When you admit that it’s your perspective, you own your place in the broader world.

As we face down a resurgent pandemic and an erasure of borders, I hope you listen to the thoughts of others, read good writing about the whole wide world, and own your perspective.

13. Proud Past. Strong Future

13. Proud Past. Strong Future

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It struck me that I ought to explain a little bit about why we cheer for the teams we do. Well, in part, it’s because I thought we ought to, and I’m the one of us most capable of complex thought and logic. But also, each team has a special something that captures part of what I love about life, and part of what makes you who you are.

So periodically (like during international breaks, long summer holidays, or say, global pandemics that completely alter everything we understand about our lives and ourselves), I want to introduce you to the teams we are tied to.

First up, Rosenborg BallKlub of Trondheim, Norway. A team that captures your proud past and our family’s strong future.

Dear Boys,

Wherefore Rosenborg Ballklub?

This is our Norway team.

That is no small matter, especially since you are both half Norwegian. We’ll talk more about the other parts of your heritage but the biggest identity marker is undoubtedly the Norwegian part. After all, from the top of your blondish heads, to your fjord blue eyes, to your lefsa white skin, you look Norse.

What it looked like when our ancestors left

But it goes beyond your looks. It’s in your names as well. Your mom’s maiden name, Gorder, is probably a lazy immigration agent’s interpretation of a great grandparent’s home: Gårder (farms). Owen Roe, your middle name (and mine, come to that) is a similarly lazy translations of “Røv”. The valley your great-great-great-grandparents left behind to come to Minnesota almost 170 years ago.

I find it easy to imagine your ancestors. Simple folks tired of the squeeze of crowded farm land and nosy neighbors, heading up to one of the biggest ports in the country and heading off too seek their fortunes in the new world.

Had they stopped before the boat. Had they abandoned the farm land for city living. We might have settled for decades and decades in the popular port of Trondheim. Even if they hadn’t–if they’d clung to the local land and familiar faces–it’d be hard to resist the lure of the team that defines Norwegian clubs today. And that’s where Rosenborg BK comes in.

Who is Rosenborg Ballklub?

For a team that can fairly be called the Real Madrid, the Manchester United, the New England Patriots of Norwegian soccer, Rosenborg doesn’t come from sterling silver stock.

The Original Rosenborg (Nee Odd) 1917

At first they were just a few boys from a local suburb with some big dreams. How big? They named themselves “Odd” after the best team of the time. As hopeful and idealistic as when your uncles and I pretended to suit up for the Michigan Wolverines during driveway basketball.

The difference, most aspirational names remain just that: a hope, more alive in mind than in reality. Rosenborg outgrew Odd, growing more prestigious and popular in their own right. The team’s first trophy, the national cup in 1960 was won by beating Odd.

Since then the team has come to rule much of Norwegian soccer. Ruling the league table with a full decade of dominant title wins. Cruising with confidence into competition against the continent’s best teams. But in many ways, they still feel like that neighborhood gang of boys who dreamed of greatness from day 1.

How are we Rosenborg Ballklub?

To be clear, we are not Rosenborg because we are consistent champions. We are not. We do not rule. We do not dominate. We do not cruise with confidence.

Your Norwegian relatives had something else in mind, something very in keeping with Rosenborg. They had hopes more alive in their minds than in reality. They hoped to see their kids go beyond a little village. They wanted to do more than farm the same little acre of land. Not only did they succeed, they went far, far beyond it.

Historically inaccurate, but cute

One of their grandsons (your great-grand-father) not only went beyond the tiny village, he went around the world to Kolkatta and Beijing. One of their great-grand-daughters (your great-grand-mother) did much more than farm a little acre of land. She got a college degree. (She also got in trouble for sneaking back from a dance, but that’s another story.)

We are so far beyond the hopes and dreams of the Norwegian ancestors who left little farm villages, trod the streets of Trondheim and headed to the new world. We have reached greatness beyond what they might have thought or believed to be possible.

And still, we have those little glimmers of Norwegian neighborhood in our veins. It’s in the lutefisk we still make for Great-Grandpa Bud even though he isn’t here and no one else likes it. It’s in the Spritz Cookies that bring a tear to your Grandpa Mark’s eye when he makes them for you like his mother did for him, and her mother did before her.

Rosenborg BK is our Norwegian team because you are both a hope surpassed and a history alive. Our past is proud, our future is strong.

10. Can’t buy me Truth

10. Can’t buy me Truth

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Dear Boys,

You both should know, despite your parents best intentions, you will probably spend more time in life than is good or healthy for you worrying about money.

Having it. Making it. Keeping it. Growing it. Spending it. Saving it.

In truth, money isn’t that important, except for all the ways that it is. And if that sounds maddening, congratulations, that’s money.

I don’t have much to tell you about money. I’m not an investment guru or a power trader. But this week, one thing about money seemed rather relevant.

Money makes things easier, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t stand a chance against the truth.

Sheikh Mansour enjoying the attention

The biggest story in soccer right now is happening in Manchester. Man City, a team backed by the vast wealth of a West Asian prince, has spent their way from an after thought to a global power. To do so, they lied about how much they made to cover for overspending.

It may not seem like much. Really rich guys pay more than advertised to other pretty rich guys isn’t exactly crime of the century stuff. The problem with Man City is that they are doubly flouting rules designed to give smaller teams, like those from Belgrade to Trondheim, a chance.

Spending more on one player than other teams do on their whole roster because you run a smart and profitable business, that’s tough, but grudgingly acceptable. Doing the same thing when you’re losing money just to keep up appearances and because your insanely wealthy owner can do things that local/fan community trusts can’t. That’s lousy.

At the same time, the United States is seriously mulling whether or not they want nine months of bitter campaigning between a pair of a 70 year old New York billionaires: Donald Trump and Mike Bloomberg.

Battle of the Billionaires

Bloomberg’s immense wealth has pushed him close to the lead in polls of democratic candidates. But this week, when he had his first chance to speak his truth about what he will do and why we should want it to happen, Mayor Mike could barely keep up with the most fundamental challenges.

Again, Bloomberg’s wealth is pervasive, his production of pithy retorts to the president is effective if unproductive. But when it comes to speaking the truth about who we are and what we need, “Mike Can’t Do It”.

As with Man City, if Bloomberg’s wealth was used to promote powerful and popular causes, then his rise would be concerning but acceptable. Using it to instead force himself into consideration just because he, like 99.99% of the world’s population, isn’t the current president, is maddening.

In short, money for both Man City and Mayor Bloomberg gives them opportunities others don’t have. For the rest of us, that’s frustrating. Using those opportunities to obfuscate and underwhelm: that’s unacceptable.

To be fair, you may wonder why I bring this up to you, with your parents in non-profits and your power nowhere near the Bloomberg’s and Cities of the world. Why bring this up with you?

Because of who you are You are American middle class, which makes you absurdly wealthy to most of the world. You are white men, which gives you extra privileges and power that you won’t even recognize most of the time. In the eyes of most you look much more like Man City and Mayor Mike than you like the underdog. So use your power thoughtfully, with truth and talent.

6. Why ask Why?

6. Why ask Why?

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Dear Boys,

Alex hit the “why” stage especially hard this last weekend. The word comes out so naturally, so effortlessly that you might as well have been breathing a big world of “why”.

I know it can get a bit intense to hear and feel like you need an answer to it every time, but I really don’t mind. After all “Why” is one of the best questions you can ask.

Lots of times we have questions with quick verifiable answers. Who won? (FC Koln) When and Where did they win? (Last Sunday, at home) Even How did they win is just a google search away. (4 goals from 4 different players over a lackluster Freiburg defense.) But why is a trickier question, one with curiosity at its core.

Why?????

When you ask why–as in Why have Freiburg lost twice to teams fighting relegation?–you’re seeking something beyond what’s on the surface. You’re reaching for understanding beyond the basics, and into the functions, motives, and causes.

Some may be annoyed by the question. When teaching I certainly have taken my share of deep breaths when students get stuck in a “why” cycle. I will probably tire of the incessant whys even from you boys. To be sure, professional athletes in inexplicably bad form at terribly inopportune moments would not enjoy the question.

But the sad truth is, people who fear the why really fear having to explain their reasoning. I’m most exasperated when I don’t really agree with my lesson’s objectives. Your grandparents definitely were more snappish to me when they had little more than “cause I said so” on offer.

Really digging in and answering “why” is good for you, and for your goals. Is it lack of preparedness, inability to adjust to opposing game plans, is Manuel Guide over extended in a back 3 with Jonathan Schmid and Janik Haberer in front of him?

You might defend any or all of those answers. Any or all of those answers might be right…or might not. But the key is to ask why and to really explore possible answers. If people are going to ask questions, they might as well be good ones.

1. Dear Boys,

1. Dear Boys,

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’ve always liked sports, but with wonky eye sight and minimal muscle mass the stories and themes made a greater impact than the scores and the stats.

In the last two years I’ve become a father to you two amazing pumpkins and as you grow and play and live in a wider world that fixates on results, I want to give you another perspective.

So, I made a place to share reflections, ideas, beliefs, and thoughts about the past, present, and future inspired by the global and personal passion that is soccer.

Starting this site seemed like the thing to do for a few reasons. I’m a talkative, bombastic, chatty person and slowing down my words has significant benefits. Publishing what I write isn’t terribly comfortable for me, but if I am going to help you face your fears of darkness and potties and cans of seltzer water that open with a loud *Kccch*, I should face my fears too.

Most of all, trite as it is, talking during and about sports can really help. The games give you a habit and an arena to talk and talk freely. When I was a kid, I gained so much from morning runs with my dad, backyard battles with my brothers, and mid-tournament talks with my mom. Heck, your mother and I announced our love for each other in the middle of a nine-part baseball documentary.

Right now you’re still learning to jump and roll over, so we’re not really ready for big conversations yet. But we have our habit in the mornings and the evenings, at the bottom of the stairs. We pull boots on and tug them off. So, welcome to the boot room.

Here, with the help of eleven teams from around the world, we can talk about what brought our family here, what shapes our world and what will inspire our values. Watching these teams shows us how to savor the moments of each match while also planning for the future; how to navigate the world at the moment and study the structures that got us here.

Our Starting XI

  1. University of Montana Lady Griz (Big Sky)
  2. Rosenborg BK (Norwegian-Elitserien)
  3. SC Freiburg (German-Bundesliga)
  4. FK Vozdovac (Serbian-Super Liga)
  5. Ross County FC (Scotland Premiership)
  6. Grenoble Foot (France Ligue 2)
  7. Legon Cities FC (Ghanaian Premeirship)
  8. Emelec (Ecuadorian Serie A)
  9. Alebrijes of Oaxaca (Mexican Ascenco MX)
  10. Minnesota United (MLS)
  11. Minerva Punjab (India I-League)
Your First XI as a Fan

For some, this might seem silly. A collection of life advice through the prism of football clubs may be the height of irrelevance. If nothing else, it will present the power of tribalism, separation, and segmentation that is the exactly what hurts us now. Why leave an account of this nonsense, or this ugliness for two young kids?

Because, put simply, you should know about ugliness and nonsense just as much as you know about beauty and truth. You should know about fracturing, fiercely independent, cultures because those are the cultures who will shape our shared world. You are unique and powerful individuals, because you live a life shaped by 11 unique and powerful communities.

Out of many you are one. You should do what you think is best, and you can use the opinions of those who’ve gone before to help guide you to that decision. You should know your history, and the histories of those who share your space. By all means, play your own way, but never forget that you’re playing with a team.

This site is built with love to show you where we’ve been, where we are, and where we could go. It’s built for you, whenever you find it.

Love, Papa