I am a huge fan of the always-excellent Phil Ball, who covers the Spanish league for Soccernet.com. His column always manages to make a point about culture as well as covering the footie, almost always with humor and never without a clever turn of phrase or two. Ball, better than any other sports writer I’ve ever read, regularly puts a finger on why sport matters–and not in a face-painting, goony fanatic sort of way.

Take for instance just a few lines from this article. In order to “get” it, it might help to know that British footballing icon George Best died a few days ago. Best was the best British footballer and his brilliance on the pitch was only matched by his self-destructive streak off of it. Boozing and general indiscipline ended his career prematurely at age 27. The article talks about the ascendency of Barcelona from being also-rans to one of the greatest teams in Europe and what they’re doing right.

“Manchester United were not as successful, statistically speaking, as they should have been. But the wonderful thing about George Best – and Busby’s ‘tactical talks’, was that it didn’t really matter all that much. In the pre-corporate age, which Best both symbolised and then helped to destroy, what mattered was the aesthetic, and Best had that in bucketloads.

As a kid, I saw him twice in the flesh – once when I nagged my dad to take me down to Notts Forest one evening (United played in blue – I can still see them under the floodlights) and once at Old Trafford against West Ham. It changed me as person. It cemented my obsession with football and guaranteed that I would waste most of my adult life watching it and worrying about it. I’m not the only one to say that, of course. Thanks George!”

In the pre-corporate age, which Best both symbolised and then helped to destroy, what mattered was the aesthetic, and Best had that in bucketloads.

Carry that sentiment beyond footie into anything you really care about. Ignore the avalanche of marketing and advertisements, hype, gossip, round-the-clock coverage, or whatever else surrounds it. What we’re all really looking for is a moment to behold something beautiful.

It’s easy to forget the world is a magical place. When we encounter beauty, often unexpectedly and always fleeting, we want to experience it again and again. It doesn’t matter whether it’s in music, or in a book, or an interaction with another person, we instantly know that feeling and we are drawn to it, and sometimes we try to replicate it. We play in cover bands, play pick-up games in the park, try our hand at writing a novel, volunteer to help those folks less fortunate than ourselves. There’s an indefinable quality to this, a very sort of I and Thou groove that’s well beyond packaging, buying, and selling.

Anyway, Ball’s article really resonated with me, probably because I don’t jive with the idea that everything can be understood if you break it into small enough parts. There’s no rational explanation that explains how a man running with a ball at his feet can transform a person’s life. The person who doesn’t “get it” thinks it’s simply a display of skill that’s worthy of admiration, but that doesn’t really work. I’ve played soccer my entire life and that gives me the ability to appreciate the skills of the best players in the world, yet there’s something out there floating in the ether that elevates certain moments to another plane, to something utterly beautiful. It’s like when Pele’ scores on a bicycle kick in Victory and the German commander can’t help but stand and cheer. That moment is supposed to demonstrate how that single act of sheer athletic beauty can eclipse the tense social and political climate of a prison camp.

I’m also trying to put together my statement of purpose for grad school and I’m having difficulty explaining why I quit a pretty good career in order to go back to school to drop a five-digit figure to get a non-essential degree in an entirely too-competitive field. I realized the real reason while writing this post: I wanted to get back closer to things that matter, to brush shoulders with that indefinable aesthetic quality I encounter when reading great stuff. (That happened sometimes when I worked for US Soccer and got to see cool stuff first hand, but it came further and more far-removed the higher I climbed on the totem pole. )

Unfortunately, there’s no way to say that succinctly in a statement of purpose without sounding like an utter crackpot.

Current Mood – Wishing I Was Anywhere But Here |
Currently Listening To – The Ramones – “The Ramones”