4 years ago
29 April 2009
Reverence
Unapologetically loud and supposedly banned from Britain's Top of the Pops for being too blasphemous. The Jesus and Mary Chain is without a doubt among my favorite bands, a part of an era where alternative rock was, well, alternative (and unfortunately I wasn't around to experience first hand). This is the opening track from what is arguably their best album (alongside the first, Psychocandy) Honey's Dead. Listen to this album, thats all I can say about it.
(Credit to SF at The Offside Rules for finding this first)
27 April 2009
Fever Pitch
This is going to be part book review, part memoir. Mostly, it is a comparison and relation of myself to the author.
Tonight, I finished reading Nick Hornsby's Fever Pitch, a book about his love affair with English soccer club Arsenal. Within the pages, he details how Arsenal controlled his life from 1968, his first game, to 1992, the date of publishing. The details I won't get into much, but my own relation will reveal many of them. All I can say is that if you know anybody with a seemingly unhealthy relationship to a sports team (i.e. me) you should read this book; you will better understand the thought process.
I fell for the Gamecocks in a much similar way that Hornsby was introduced to Arsenal. Throughout my early childhood, I had watched the Braves and Gamecocks, and was aware of other sports, but the concept of fanhood was foreign to me. This all changed, however, in 2000. I was an 11 year old, and my family started regularly attending games. Even then, it took a few years to take hold, but the seeds were sewn as I was there, cognitively aware of all that was taking place around me, and I was enthralled.
Fast forward a few years, and I am a young teenager who attends nearly every Gamecock home game (and a few away games if the family can manage it). It has become my obsession, my hobby, my time consumer.
Why, you may ask yourself if you're familiar with an obsessed fan of any kind, would somebody subject themselves financially and emotionally at this level to something they don't seem to enjoy?
Quite simply, to us, it isn't a hobby. It is, as Hornsby eloquently puts it, another form of real life. While it doesn't actually mirror our lives outside the stadium, it certainly seems to. Maybe its more that life outside mirrors that inside, who knows.
To me, it isn't something I do for fun, though there are certainly times when there is nothing better. Instead, it is a replacement for something else real, something that was missing from life before this came along, and is still gone after. The case is probably different with everyone; for me, it is a sense of comraderie and belonging. Through middle and high school, I never felt like I belonged. For those of you that grew up with me, you know I wasn't always there. For those of you that were very observant, you may have noticed that even when I showed up I wasn't entirely there. There was a part of me, emotionally and possibly even mentally, that was dormant much of the time.
However, when I was in Williams-Brice, I gained something that was lacking. I shared common goals, dreams, desires, and objectives with 80,000 others. Together, we worked towards a common end, battled adversity, and experienced the highest highs and lowest lows. I've had, and still have, good friends- but I'm either entirely oblivious to it or it actually is true- that there have never been individuals with whom I could share these experiences.
This is still true, in spite of the fact that I've matured greatly in the past few years, emotionally and socially. Part of me will always be that 15 year old that doesn't belong anywhere.
Its the same reason I'll drive to Charleston on a whim to claim a 2nd tier soccer team as my (nominally) local side, and cheer them on like I've loved them my whole life. Its the same reason I'll take a one day road trip to Nashville to see what is far from the best soccer. When I'm in a stadium, when I share my desires with 3,000, 30,000 or 80,000 people, I can truly belong. Sure, the tailgating is fun, and the emotional high of a win is great- but its why I come back after humiliating losses and poor play.
Tonight, I finished reading Nick Hornsby's Fever Pitch, a book about his love affair with English soccer club Arsenal. Within the pages, he details how Arsenal controlled his life from 1968, his first game, to 1992, the date of publishing. The details I won't get into much, but my own relation will reveal many of them. All I can say is that if you know anybody with a seemingly unhealthy relationship to a sports team (i.e. me) you should read this book; you will better understand the thought process.
I fell for the Gamecocks in a much similar way that Hornsby was introduced to Arsenal. Throughout my early childhood, I had watched the Braves and Gamecocks, and was aware of other sports, but the concept of fanhood was foreign to me. This all changed, however, in 2000. I was an 11 year old, and my family started regularly attending games. Even then, it took a few years to take hold, but the seeds were sewn as I was there, cognitively aware of all that was taking place around me, and I was enthralled.
Fast forward a few years, and I am a young teenager who attends nearly every Gamecock home game (and a few away games if the family can manage it). It has become my obsession, my hobby, my time consumer.
Why, you may ask yourself if you're familiar with an obsessed fan of any kind, would somebody subject themselves financially and emotionally at this level to something they don't seem to enjoy?
Quite simply, to us, it isn't a hobby. It is, as Hornsby eloquently puts it, another form of real life. While it doesn't actually mirror our lives outside the stadium, it certainly seems to. Maybe its more that life outside mirrors that inside, who knows.
To me, it isn't something I do for fun, though there are certainly times when there is nothing better. Instead, it is a replacement for something else real, something that was missing from life before this came along, and is still gone after. The case is probably different with everyone; for me, it is a sense of comraderie and belonging. Through middle and high school, I never felt like I belonged. For those of you that grew up with me, you know I wasn't always there. For those of you that were very observant, you may have noticed that even when I showed up I wasn't entirely there. There was a part of me, emotionally and possibly even mentally, that was dormant much of the time.
However, when I was in Williams-Brice, I gained something that was lacking. I shared common goals, dreams, desires, and objectives with 80,000 others. Together, we worked towards a common end, battled adversity, and experienced the highest highs and lowest lows. I've had, and still have, good friends- but I'm either entirely oblivious to it or it actually is true- that there have never been individuals with whom I could share these experiences.
This is still true, in spite of the fact that I've matured greatly in the past few years, emotionally and socially. Part of me will always be that 15 year old that doesn't belong anywhere.
Its the same reason I'll drive to Charleston on a whim to claim a 2nd tier soccer team as my (nominally) local side, and cheer them on like I've loved them my whole life. Its the same reason I'll take a one day road trip to Nashville to see what is far from the best soccer. When I'm in a stadium, when I share my desires with 3,000, 30,000 or 80,000 people, I can truly belong. Sure, the tailgating is fun, and the emotional high of a win is great- but its why I come back after humiliating losses and poor play.
Welcome to the Blog
This is the Blog. Here, I shall share certain information, including but not limited to the following: Late night, insomnia-induced thoughts; ideals on philosophy; rants; contemplations on events or interests in my life; sports; people; politics; books; and lastly, creative endeavors such as music and writing.
Writing a blog is like speaking to nobody, and yet everyone can be an audience member. As somebody who has had considerable difficulties communicating throughout my life, I should find this a good way to say whats on my mind, being that I'm not actually speaking to anyone.
If it makes no sense, that is fine. This is a look into my thought processes, and sometimes they will seem at least a little incoherent.
For now, enjoy the journey, because it isn't about the destination.
Writing a blog is like speaking to nobody, and yet everyone can be an audience member. As somebody who has had considerable difficulties communicating throughout my life, I should find this a good way to say whats on my mind, being that I'm not actually speaking to anyone.
If it makes no sense, that is fine. This is a look into my thought processes, and sometimes they will seem at least a little incoherent.
For now, enjoy the journey, because it isn't about the destination.
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