Clash of the remote controls

This is a 'secret-santa-wish-write-up' for my team members about the game of football.

Sharing the same here!

First of all, I’d like to thank my Santa for using the word ‘Football’ and not ‘Soccer’ even if it was written inadvertently.

I’ll take up this write-up by bringing in the age old Men-Women clash-of-opinions or do I say ‘clash-of-remote-controls’ unfolding all the myths about the ‘beautiful game’ and driving out the insecurities from some of your minds. At the end of this mail, there’s going to be ‘One Winner’, who’ll be the winner? Ohh, you can trust me on that. ;-)

From the legends of “Roman soldiers playing with skulls as footballs” to the “Streets of Calcutta getting divided into the ‘Brazil’ half and the ‘Argentina’ half during World Cup matches”, football is a journey, it is an experience of its own, it is a stage unleashed for the passionate hoi polloi. To me, it is a license to get out of the monotone sarcastically termed as ‘Life’ and dive into the frenzied high tide of Football-madness.

The madness includes endless discussions about the ‘game’ (pointless as some might say. Hunh? What?), fighting for your team (Arsenal rules man, I don’t care!), late-night-football-watching (and obviously coming to office late), wearing the cool jerseys with your name and your favorite number inscribed on it (Yes, I have got one too), shouting at your neighbor’s irritating Cocker Spaniel to just stop barking during football matches (Ohh you just needed a reason to shout at the poor animal), celebrating victories of your team at the local ‘hangout’, making friends over those endless football discussions, breaking up with those same friends because they had a ‘different opinion’ about the ‘game’ and last but not the least, ‘fighting for your right’ with your grand-mom/mom/sister/girl-friend/wife (Basically the entire fraternity of ‘What-on-Earth-is-this-stupid-game-all-about?’)

Continuing with that last ‘point’, It is all about wanting that remote-control back when Arsenal are one ahead in the ‘stoppage time’ at Stamford Bridge and you know very well that the annoying Didier Drogba can put one past our keeper and make your night the worst ever.

Me: “Mom, do you even understand how important this is? This is it. The moment! We can win the league after 6 years”

Mom: “What?? Do you understand how important this episode of K is? And anyways, they will show this match again.” * sister nods her head frantically in indisputable agreement * * Dad looks away and pretends to read the newspaper *

Me: “Oh God, for heaven’s sake, just the last 5 minutes and the remote-control is all yours. And please…there’s no fun watching a match after knowing a result…”

Mom: “No, you are not getting the remote-control. Go and browse the internet for the results. And anyways, how can this be so important? I can only see 22 players running aimlessly behind one football”

There. She said it yet again. To be honest, I tried explaining to my mom that it was not all about “22 players running aimlessly behind one football” (though she had a point, it wasn’t entirely untrue), but she just wouldn’t understand. But then, with time, I realized there was no ‘point’ in explaining such things to her, exactly, like there was absolutely no point in explaining to me why Tulsi loathed her daughter-in-law or something on those lines. So a mutual agreement had to be the order of the day. I just wanted 90 minutes of TV time for me in the entire week and that being that evening of Saturday when I didn’t want anybody to even contemplate on snatching the remote-control from me. Plan agreed upon. Who won? To me, the ‘beautiful game of football’!

From Circa-1995’ to the point of writing-this-mail-now, I’ve realized that being a football fan puts me in a different ‘layer of ozone’. I think differently compared to Homo sapiens from other layers of the ozone. I reach levels of ecstasy which are completely alien to football-non-followers. I eat, drink, dream, watch, walk, run, breathe the game of football but there are others who don’t or maybe even cringe at the idea of doing so. I relate to stuffs like ‘Busby Babes’, own goals and the gold-and-maroon-of-Mohun-Bagan while others think I am crazy.

At the end of it all, after years of ‘football education’ (A football erudite, if you can say so), I am open to the idea of ‘spreading across’ the ‘knowledge’ and sanctify the so-called-notion-about-the-game-of-football or speaking like a purist ‘drill the football-game-theory into your brains’ IF and ONLY IF you are open to the idea of learning and I meant learning about the beautiful game of football. ;-)

For starters, the FOOTBALL WORLD CUP is just round the corner, in 2010, so are you sacrificing the remote-control for all-those-innocent-introvert-beings-who-loves-you-more-than-football-except-when-a-football-game-is-ON? :-D


This write-up is a copyright of Sounak Mukherjee, and is NOT to be used/copied/distributed/Chinese-whispered/gossiped anywhere.

Thanks © Sounak, 2009-10’.


Nasal Crooner said...

he he totally empathize.. imagine having to fight for the remote in our rented apartment @ B'lore cause 1 roomie was a manure fan and the other a ch$ki fan.. :P

TheGreatOne said...

@Nasal Crooner: My God! That can be disturbing! Blood-shed and all! Jesus!

Heil Gunners and all that!

Sitaram said...

can relate to every word of this post, brilliant!

Dude, you know what my mom once said about football, 'why dont they give each player a ball, why is everyone running behind only one ball?'

You can imagine how i must have felt then

I will use your post to make people understand what FOOTBALL really means to us.

I think I should start first with @KayB :P