THERE’S STILL NO MEANING OF LIFE
While there’s still no meaning of life that doesn’t mean there aren’t higher powers. There are. Not only that but they are interested in our affairs. The painfully confusing part for we humans is the higher powers regard us like we do pygmy marmosets or gold fish. In their way they play with us. Sometimes it’s caring and other times not so much (think magnifying glass + ants; or frog + microwave).
Of course for we humans it isn’t all long faces curled up at the foot of the door. There are those good times. No different than when our dogs thrill at our ability to divine their wishes upon arrival at the dog park. Just as our dogs’ thoughts are transparent to us so are ours to the higher powers.
Of the original ¡FUTURISMOS! squad only 7 remain as regular contributors (there are a coterie of adjunct originals). Not that scoring is the only or even the primary measurement of one’s value to the club, but it's the easiest to tally. Of the 7 originals only one had yet to score a goal.
Our capricious higher power keepers noticed.
PREGAME
Your ¡FUTURISMOS! are still adjusting to Sunday play. Once again there was a curious paucity of ¡FUTURISMOS! on hand. This was made doubly vexing by our Game 1 victory and the prospect of facing the Woo Hoo Club, who drew with Chino FC in their first game. [Yes, that Chino, the only team we have a winning streak against.]
The ladies were three: Li’l Pete, Belle, and Run MC (playing in her second game of the day). We picked up a couple of killer subs to help out: Helga the Magnificent and Anna the Wall.
The gentlemen were 5: I.Madnle, Bradlebum (aka Braden Stadleman), Socrates (aka Brian Ritchie), Captain Elliot and your humble scribe. With Captain Elliot keeping that left one reserve. Considering I.Madnle is incapable of pacing himself and Bradlebum and I were designed by the Divine Overlords to fatigue we recruited a gentleman who bore a more than passing resemblance to Diego Maradona (but not nearly as fat).
With that we were off in hopes of extending our season opening 1-game winning streak.
FIRST HALF HIGHLIGHTS
I don’t remember any. I’m sure there were some but the game was a couple days ago and I haven’t had the time to stop and collect my thoughts. Perhaps some of you will consider this a blessing and send your thought beams in the presumed direction of our divine keepers urging them to maintain my current existence pattern. That’s your prerogative.
I only hasten to remind you what the definition of “capricious” is: given to sudden and unaccountable changes of mood or behavior. Draw attention to yourself at your own peril.
HALFTIME: ¡F! 0-- Woo Hoo Club 0
The mood at halftime was even keel. The only person notably up or down was Helga the Magnificent whom I demanded show her excitement about playing the second half. She responded by squealing.
¡GOAL! DIEGO: ¡F! 1 -- Woo Hoo Club 0
Diego scored a few minutes into the second half. I don’t remember the goal exactly, which is convenient because in lieu of a description I’ll talk about Diego for a moment.
His name was actually Ross (or Russ) but by the end of the match everyone called him Diego and he responded without hesitation. Diego was good. Fancy good. That is to say every time he touched the ball he did something needlessly flashy. He’d step over or drag his off leg. My favorite was he’d stop the ball and rock it back and forth under his foot--like a ranch owner with a foot on his fence surveying all under his domain.
Regular readers will recognize what I love about that stuff. It’s utterly impractical and that makes it the most like pure play. Diego played with the ball. As is typically the case when you play with something you also end up loosing it, which was also true with Diego. Such is futbol.
Fun having and a goal to boot. Malto obligato, Diego.
A NOTE ABOUT WOO HOO CLUB
I must briefly point out that Woo Hoo Club did no loose heart after going down a goal. And with the exception of two people on their team (Yellow Sock and their Keeper, more on both in a moment) they were a fun team to play. Plenty of chatter and laughing.
¡GOAL! I.MADNLE: ¡F! 2 -- Woo Hoo Club 0
The Gods entered the game about midway through the second half.
Socrates took a shot on goal and the Woo Hoo Keeper stopped it but couldn’t control the ball and it got away from him a bit . As an occasional keeper myself I can tell you this is a heart stopping moment. You know opposing players are lurking, just waiting for the chance to pounce.
So the ball bounced away from him a little and I.Madnle was prowling. He just happened to be right there and lunged at the ball as the Keeper was going to get it. It squirted past the keeper into the net.
¡GOAL!
¿Or was it?
In the CSC you’re supposed to back off if the keeper is in possession of the ball or going to beat or even tie you to the ball. I.Madnle’s lunge while the Woo Hoo Keeper was fumbling for the ball felt like a close call because it was close call.
As our Overlord Keepers know that’s the Law of Existence. Change the weight of a photon by the smallest conceivable fraction and life in this Universe ceases to exist. The Woo Hoo Keeper didn’t see it this way. There was some mighty complaining followed by clear pouting. This was in keeping with his seemingly chippy nature.
The ref--clearly up to speed on his quantum mechanics--was well acquinted with the Law of Existence. The goal stood and I.Madnle--the final scoreless original ¡FUTURISMO!--had his first goal.
WOO HOO RETALIATION
Right after the ball was put in play after I.Madnle’s goal there was a ball kicked high in the air set to come down near midfield. Socrates fielded it and Woo Hoo’s Yellow Socks crashed into his back. The ref whistled the foul and things got tense.
Socrates rightfully took umbrage with Yellow Socks’ challenge. Yellow Socks immediately turned to the ref and complained about the way Socrates was talking to him. This is a classic jerk move: sucker punch someone and complain when he retaliates.
The line between playing hard because it’s fun and being a wanker is another example of the Law of Existence. It’s a close call. So close the human mind can’t grasp how fine it is. Yet despite the fact we can’t see the line everyone knows when someone crossed it. It’s like it polarizes the mental air and everyone can see something clearly that was obscured a moment before.
Yellow Socks crossed the line and it made the game un-fun for a while. Don’t worry, the Gods saw it too.
¡GOAL! I.Madnle: ¡F! 3 -- Woo Hoo Club 0
The nice thing about capricious beings is they need a sense of humor in order to be really good at wild emotional swings. A capricious person without a sense of humor is just a jerk.
Yellow Socks and the Woo Hoo Keeper had clearly piqued our Overlord’s ire and they punished them with the most deserving of instruments: I.Madnle.
Yellow Socks was marking I.Madnle sprinting--in his gloriously gangly way--up the left touchline toward the Woo Hoo end. The ball was sent in their direction. Yellow Socks deflected the ball but not well enough and it headed toward the Woo Hoo goal.
I.Madnle swooped in from his sideline sprint to chase the ball down. The Woo Hoo Keeper broke from the goal and it looked like he was easily going to beat I.Madnle to the ball. I. Madnle knew that but based on their earlier exchange thought maybe he’d get another bobble to bounce his way.
Leaving Yellow Socks in his wake I.Madnle closed on the ball and the Woo Hoo Keeper at a pace only explained by our Divine Audience. He beat the Woo Hoo Keeper and got a shot off with an arm’s length of angle to spare. The ball raced between the Woo Hoo Keeper’s legs and into the net. ¡GOAL!
In one play I.Madnle smoked Yellow Socks and then nutmeged the Woo Hoo Keeper to officially end the game. If I know one thing I know anything and I know somewhere in this universe there were a couple of incorporeal beings laughing their non-existant asses off.
A divine double. Congratulations, I.Madnle.
A couple minutes later the match was over.
LI’L PETE AWARED: ANNA THE WALL
Anna didn’t have a quintessential ball-to-the-face Li’l Pete moment but she was a clearing machine. It seemed like Anna broke up every other Woo Hoo attack and then coolly either passed the ball out of danger or simply cleared. It was a subtly brilliant performance and certainly deserving of the Li’l Pete Award.
POSTGAME
To wrap this up.
Through two games your ¡FUTURISMOS! are not only unbeaten but un-scored upon and managed 8 goals to boot.
Our Divine Overlords are born of Entropy so it won’t stay this way forever so, dear ¡FUTURISMOS! fan, please enjoy while we can.
BORDERLINE FAUSTIAN MOMENT: MY NEW BOOTS
In a fit of exaltation after our win last week I celebrated by buying a new pair of boots. They aren’t flashy. They’re just new. [That's a picture of one there.]
When I pulled them out of my bag at the game it was like flipping a switch on a time machine that transported your ¡FUTURISMOS! back to the day after Christmas, aged 8. This was a bona fide event. Awe washed over everyone. Explanations we demanded of me. Tales were told. I haven’t experienced that level of clamor since I showed up at my friend’s house with the Millennium Falcon Santa Claus hand delivered the night before (a true story).
I doubt Dr. Faust would have traded his soul for the moment but at a minimum he would have chuckled at the site of a pack of adults in matching shirts tittering like a pack of children over something that was nothing more than new.
There’s no doubt children have that one right. Fretting over the meaning of life doesn’t occur to them. As a result everything that glitters is gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment