the Nannas v Big Kick Enegry
SJG (MOM) 3, DC 3, TW 2, CB, CG, TH. RH (ass coach)
8. : 2
Slow to start
Nanna’s rubbed against Big Kick Energy seemingly evenly matched.
Top bun had height, a quick turn and sharp right foot.
A few Maradona physiques in their team, but without the same chutzpah, no lo suficiente.
My memory of these moments in a hall in Brunswick at the end of 2019 is like a melting ice cream, ribbons of caramel pool on the pavement, unrecognisable from the cold desirable seconds ago.
Facts like names, chronology, order itself are flimsy raft-boats that appear when the mind sinks into wakefulness from dream state
like a ocean liner whose true story may die with its captain.
This game cleansed me.
I bathed in their tears.
Tears are many things
Water, mucin, lipids, lysozyme, lactoferrin, lipocalin, lacritin, immunoglobulins, glucose, urea, sodium, and potassium.
To say we won is to say I cried.
What did you win, what did you cry.
The compounds of this victory are equally complex and invisible.
I think about covering my body in tattoos
I want to kill the opposition
I am marking the stubby Maradona
There is peace in my heart
My mouth awash with the metallic taste of hemoglobin from the red blood cells.
My life has been wrapped in spreadsheets
Meetings with management
Moving back and forth in a square that neither expands nor contracts
But the game here moves in measured rewards and executions.
Break, turn, pass, run, split, shot, net, goal.
Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.
There is something sad about a wild horse being tamed
A wild stallion, unridable, bucking with all fury of the mountain fires.. worn down by the fences and cowboys rope.. the dust cloud settled to a trotting beast, broken and rideable shaped to mans will.
A well tamed horse is called dead broke horse.
We saw that spirit of the game pushed out.
Around 6-1 the referee put on Bohemian Rhapsody on his sound system..
We are the champions, another one bite the dust or we will rock you all would have been more apt choices from Queen.
The pain of an unanswerable question drives some philosophers to madness and martyrdom.
Why were we the better team?
The emotional transactions of our days.
6 ft above our heads the psycho-spiritual thermodynamics reigned supreme.
But of course, see?
Le Coq looks like a Greek god
Tao means the source of creation
Fish gills take oxygen from out of water
An opposing element, transmuted.
Our Gill plucks the oppositions ball from our goals and thrusts it forth with savage intention.
He slaps it. He drops 90 degrees onto linoleum. The ball is not allowed here, it is against our nature.
I had only this game to rip forth some meaning from the day, so I lean into the wind to fall and die or fly and live. And we flew and we lived
What I mean to say is victory came to us because we beckoned it
We possessed it
Or rather it possessed us
The other team did not want it
We were on fire, violent and creative.
But On our way to victory we destroyed something beautiful in the process
And it becomes abstract
A amusement ride
The wild horse is gone
A experimental 6 minute rock opera song sung by a flamboyant gay English / Indian man is reduced to a background music for the soccer jock in a hall in Brunswick at the end of 2019.