It's the fourth down on the ten-yard line...Rick flicks it to John Q, who heads it to Steve...oh, and the Vinyl Villain dribbles it down the left and passes it to Tricia...who throws it to Tim...Tim lines up on the goal...he shoots...the goalie dives the wrong way AND ITS A GOOOOOOOAAAALLL FOR TEAM CONTRAST PODCAST!!!
Yes, this week it's a mix of pigskin and pitch as the CP nation explores football in all its musical permutations. Come listen to the match over here. The team roster:
(05:03) The Hitchers - Strachan
(55:24) The Housemartins - We’re not deep
(58:41) Jiskefet - Mijn club
Despite my looong stint in the UK, I am similarly lukewarm towards The Beautiful Game. In the office I was regularly teased for not having a team, so much so that I finally told my colleagues that they could pick a team for me to follow if it would make them happy. Alas (thankfully?), they could not decide who I should support; I think it had come down to Charlton Athletic, QPR, and Liverpool (the last because I am rather fond of the late John Peel, who was a keen Liverpool supporter), but the lengthy debates never reached resolution.
I suppose what really turns me off team spectator sports is the tribalism; the "us-versus-them" mentality, the trash-talking, the jeering. Yes, yes, I know it's usually all in the good, healthy spirit of friendly competition, but even then I just can't see the point of investing emotional capital in it. And then you have the occasions when the tribalism gets ugly. It would be facile of me to tar all sports with the brush of hooliganism, but that distasteful element does rear its head far too often for my liking.
Perhaps what cemented my dislike of football (soccer) in particular was my Leeds experience. In the late nineties Dearest Wife was living and working in Leeds while I did likewise in London. Every Friday I'd endure the Great North Eastern Railway service from Kings Cross to Leeds, and every Sunday afternoon I'd endure it again in reverse. However, the journey back was most often rendered much more of an ordeal by the drunken football fans returning home to their ratholes after the fixture of the day. The puke, the chants, the verbal - it was awful. It got so bad that eventually I started taking the Monday dawn train back to London instead. It meant getting up at around 4:30 AM, but at least I could sleep for a couple of hours (sometimes more, if there were leaves on the tracks) without being bothered by bovver boys...
Despite all my kvetching, I must admit to going to the odd Canadian football game as of late. Why? Well, the Canuck version of the American game is faster paced, as it isn't quite so commercialized and it boasts one fewer down. The fans are better behaved in general , although I have seen police intervene in the stands on occasion. But the real reason I go? My Fantastic Father-in-Law quite likes the game, and I quite like spending time with him.
What's that? Oh yes, the music. Here are the two other tracks that I almost submitted:
Tribe Called Quest - Can I Kick It? (buy here)
Football? Kick? Geddit??
The Adicts - You'll Never Walk Alone (buy here or e-here)
Everybody's favourite clockwork punks do their version of Liverpool FC's anthem.
Next week, it's all about Sizes. Pop over here to find out how to contribute.