Five Song Friday: The Ecstasy of Agony
This Week: Imported Doo-Doo, Bucket Lists and Pop Quizzes
Not long ago I made the mistake of caring about sports.
It happened by accident during the pandemic.
I suppose in terms of things that can happen to a person during a pandemic, “sudden-onset sports-enthusiasm” is not one of the worst.
But if I died, at least I wouldn’t have to keep suffering week after week.
I’d be in a better place.
A place where Tottenham Hotspur couldn’t hurt me.
But I didn’t die. During lockdown, I stayed home like millions of others and watched so much TV that my brain got soft and vulnerable.
One night, I let my guard down.
I was weak. My 50-year-long sports immunity was compromised.
All it took was the push of a button.
My wife and I stumbled on the Amazon series, All or Nothing: Tottenham Hotspur.
It’s a beautifully shot, behind-the-scenes documentary of the North London Premier League team during its 2019-2020 season.
Narration by Tom Hardy. Thrilling scenes of top-flight football action. And the irresistible, adorable charm of South Korean superstar Son Heung-min.
One episode led to another episode led to another. We were properly hooked.
The following Saturday morning, we rose early to watch Premier League matches on NBC. We did it again a week later.
Six Saturdays in, we asked each other, “Are we British football fans now?” The answer was a fast YES. We’d gone too far to turn back now.
The next question was more of a sticky wicket: WHO do we support?
This was a big deal for me. I’d gone my entire life without signing away my sporting soul to one team. It was finally time to pick a side.
Was I ready for this level of commitment? How does one even make a life-changing decision like this?
The hard way was to meticulously research each club, review archival footage, critique the uniforms, and interview other fans until we discovered a club culture that best matched our own personalities.
The easy way was to just “go with the team from that TV show.”
So we did that last thing.
Tottenham Hotspur it was!
And just like that, after spending almost five decades on the sports fan sidelines, I got up off the bench and into the game.
Today, I’m one of THOSE guys.
The kind of guy who yells at the TV. The guy who gets happy or angry depending on where a ball gets kicked and who kicks it.
The guy who, when he is lucky enough to see a live game, shows up way too early so he can watch the guys warm up on the pitch and OH MY GOD, Pierre-Emile Højbjerg is RIGHT THERE!
Suddenly I cared. I was part of something bigger than myself.
And what nobody told me was that caring HURTS.
Not actual, physical pain, but… almost.
The joy of victory? That almost always comes as advertised. It’s all WOO-HOOs and fist pumps and a low-level adrenaline rush that you do absolutely nothing to deserve.
Winning is great.
But defeat comes in a thousand terrible flavors.
Losing sucks.
Losing is taking a wild rollercoaster ride of highs and lows and ending up in a room with some creepy dude and his suitcase of shiny torture tools.
Losing is celebrating a lead and then falling into an open manhole.
Losing is a punch in the face and hot coffee in the groin, followed by someone asking, “Is THAT what you’re wearing?”
And the worst part is, you have no control.
You are not part of the game. You are not on the team.
No matter how much I yell at Eric Dier to “stop passing like a dingleberry,” the ball will not move. I cannot will Dejan Kulusevski to run faster. I am not giving the halftime locker room speech.
It’s exhausting and exhilarating and I guess that’s the point.
Picking a team means you sign up for all the feels. The whole emotional enchilada.
Did I make the right choice?
Or should I have continued as an emotionally detached free agent?
Ask me again at the end of the season.
Sincerely,
DJ CrankyPete
Five Song Friday 059
“Gorilla” - Little Simz
There is an alternate timeline where every Five Song Friday playlist is just this song, five times in a row until infinity. All “Gorilla,” all the time. But in this current timeline, I’ve forced myself to show restraint. I gave myself a few months to settle down. And I’ve made peace with the idea that it’s okay to include only once. If you want to put it on repeat for a few hours, that’s your prerogative. But I totally recommend it.
“Got It Bad” - LEISURE
I love a song that has a little “doo do doot doo do do do.” And when that “doo do doot doo do do do” comes imported from Auckland, New Zealand? Even better!
“My God Has a Telephone” - The Flying Stars of Brooklyn NY, Aaron Frazer
As I get older, I have to accept some things will never be. I learn to let them go one at a time. Like a reverse bucket list. Crossing items off gives me peace.
For instance, I’ll never be a teen idol, a fireman, or a fighter pilot. I’ll never be the next James Bond, the youngest US President or Rookie of the Year (for anything). I’ll likely never start my own food truck, wear cut-off denim shorts or give Keanu Reeves a piggyback ride. And for absolutely sure, I will never have my own gospel recording project like Aaron Frazer, the man behind this lovely song from The Flying Stars of Brooklyn, NY.
And you know what? I’m okay with that.
“What’s the Difference?” - Dow Jones and the Industrials
Hello friend! If you’re like me, you’ve always struggled to find an answer to the very common question (often asked by strangers), “Can you name one groundbreaking new wave band from 1979 that was from West Lafayette, Indiana?”
How many times has this perfectly normal query left you cold and confused? How many times have you struggled (without help or hope) to conjure a response? How often have you spiraled into a deepish depression from your gaping lack of knowledge in this particular area? If you said “too many times,” then your prayers have been answered!
The very next time a passing stranger pops you that one question quiz, just stand firm and respond (with confidence and conviction): Dow Jones and the Industrials!
“Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime” - Beck
You might remember this version of “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime” from the 2004 film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Maybe (like me) you vaguely remember a version of this song that sounds like a K-Hole nightmare from an obscure 1990’s rave compilation. Or perhaps you are a really old person who recalls that it began as a 1980 single performed by British pop band The Korgis. Who’s memory is the best? It doesn’t matter, because this isn’t a competition.
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That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!
“We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once.” ― Nietzsche