I have written very little about other things than music on this blog. That is a deliberate choice. There are already too many pointless "a day in the life" blogs. Today I make an exception.
For most people life is all about pretending. Some do not know, but that is how it is. Socialisation begins when a child expectantly goes to the first day of school. Many children understand the rules of the game this early. Others pay for naivism much later in life.
The culture sets limits. People are rarely allowed to grow. It is easier to kick than hold out a hand. The indie pop culture is sometimes nice (like when Friday I'm in Love is played at the pop club on a Friday night as the first song after a concert) but just as often disgusting. I remember when I was new in Lund and visited Club Indigo at Blekingska for the first time. A stranger came up to me and asked me a lot of things. After I said what I studied, he replied "you know, you do not belong here". Few are as socially stupid as this guy, but the idea of excluding people is very widespread among many sub-cultures in society. A genuine music interest does not suffice to be welcomed by the pop culture. You get judged on what bands you listen to, what clothes you wear, which friends you hang out with and God knows if you are not judged on what you drink as well. This may come out as bitterness, but far too many people you meet are idiots, like people who are completely serious when they state that a blond girl can not be really interested in music because of her hair colour. That is one example among many.
Life is not a game, we should have left high school behind and I do not care about where you buy your fucking clothes. Raymond and Maria said it best in their summer hit two years ago. Two Fridays ago, I met one or two people (depending on how you count) who made me believe in humanity again. It is the small things that matter.
This wall of text is a long introduction (it may not be an entirely logical one) to what I really wanted to tell. Tonight, I played football with my amateur hobby team (do not get fooled by the term "hobby team", the football is better than you think although it may not be attractive to watch from the side). We lost 4-1 but I still remember an incident from the match with joy. It will be hard to keep up for those of you who never played football yourself. Well, I was the goalkeeper of my team. Being keeper in football is one of the few things in life I can admit I am very good at, without lying and without having to humble myself. If it were not for the fact that I am only 166 cm, I probably would have been capable to be a keeper at a professional level. Now I can go only reach the bar of the goals for teams with seven players. Luckily we played seven against seven on gravel with goals of appropriate size for me.
Anyway, as seen from my perspective the opposite team plays a high cross from my right side directed to my left side. The ball goes in the air in a perfect line to an unmarked player who is approximately six meters in front of the goal line, positioned as wide as my left goal post. I move from the middle of the goal toward my left post while the ball is in the air. The highest priority is the area of the goal near the first post because the ball is likely to get there in the end, and because that is the corner I have to block. The player in the opposite team meets the ball with perfect timing and instead perfectly heads the ball toward my right corner. It is a given goal. I stand on the wrong foot, and as I said I am moving left. I see the ball fly past me high on my right side and then desperately throw myself after it (do not ask how that movement is possible when I stand on the wrong foot). I get a hand on the ball at the height of the bar in the middle of goal and see the ball go out for a corner kick. A sick and impossible save. You see them very rarely. I get praised by all teammates. Sincer praise and nothing they say just to be kind. Life is perfect for a few seconds. In the second half I hear a frustrated player in the opposite team say "it's impossible" after another good save of mine and he obviously means it is impossible to score. Very flattering.
Why am I telling you this? Well, I wish life were as uncomplicated as a perfect sequence in a football game, or as football in general. We are all equal on the pitch and we get judged on what we are doing. Elitism does not exist as long as everyone are fighting for the same goal. You win together and you lose together. The only thing that matters is what really matters. Not what clothes you wear or what bands you listen to.
I can not find a song which captures the feeling perfectly. The Arrogants - Nobody's Cool will do.
No comments:
Post a Comment