It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. You guessed right, dear reader, I have not read the Tale of Two Cities. Dickens wasn’t really my cup of tea. The times I talk about in this blog post involve the happenings of yesterday. The times I was talking about in the first sentence must be taken in the larger context of how things were for me.
Here’s to Yesterday:
I ended work filled with anticipation of what was to come. I have been following the fortunes (and misfortunes) of Manchester United for the last eleven years now. And finally, finally I was going to watch them live. Granted it was only a pre-season tour match vs Inter Milan, but it was still something. The Red Devils, right in front of me, in the flesh. Although I was looking forward to the match, there was nothing that happened that I could have expected. I have decided to categorize them for your benefit, dear reader. (Even though the blog ominously sounds like buzzfeed, I’m hoping it’s more entertaining.)
1. Backpacks: Towels may be the most quintessential things in the universe. Backpacks, it turns out, are not. Why you might wonder, as do I even till now. They can be used to carry things around with ease, they can be used to protect yourself from the rain in the absence of an umbrella, and they also act as a handy pillow for long train rides. We all can agree that backpacks are useful, but sadly, the stadium authorities do not think so. In the name of security, they did not allow anyone to carry backpacks. Naturally I was more than a little chuffed at the utter boorishness of the security guards. My grouse with security guards goes back to the wonderful days at RVCE. I digress. Long story short, they were more than willing to let me in, but my backpack, not as much. I left the gate, searching for a safe spot to keep my backpack. I also tried getting in touch with a colleague who I knew was attending the match. I started walking dejectedly towards the parking lot…
2. Little Happy Coincidences: …that’s when I spotted this tall gangly chap with a seemingly familiar appearance. It turned out to be an old friend of mine. That was quite a pleasant surprise. You see, making friends in a new place is hard work, especially for someone as impatient as I. When I moved away from home, I ended up being home away from home. I also had this great gang of local bwoys for friends. Last summer too, I was home away from home, and had some amazing times with P and G. But this time around, it seems like I’m third time not so lucky. I’m in a place where I don’t know anybody, and finding company to hang out with isn’t as easy as it seemed before. So, it is always welcome to find a familiar face, especially in places where you are least expecting to. Coming back to the old school friend, we chatted for the time that we had before kickoff. I explained my predicament to him, with a tiny hope that he could provide me with a solution. All he could offer me was a sympathetic ear. To be honest I didn’t expect much else. So we exchanged numbers and went our ways deciding to meet in the near future. I continued my dejected walk towards the parking lot.
3. Good Karmaritans: I was walking toward the parking lot (a seemingly endless walk, you might think, as you are reading this post). But yes, it did seem endless to me at the time. The weight on my shoulders, both literal and figurative, both caused by my backpack, was becoming a bother. I decided to ditch my backpack behind a bush and count on my good karma to find it lying there when I got back from the match. But this time, karma wasn’t a bitch as she usually tends to be. She turned out to be a cute golden retriever puppy wagging her tail at me. During my seemingly endless walk, I ran into a random Northern Irishman. And his advances into the stadium too, had been spurned by the unmoving security guards at the gates. We exchanged our tales of woe, and compared notes on who was more dejected, purely based on how seemingly long our respective walks had been, but friendly competition aside, he said that we ought to find somebody willing to provide lodging for our backpacks for the duration of the match I agreed, partly because I knew it would be much harder for a lone brown person to avail lodging for a backpack outside a stadium. I tagged along with him, and we chanced upon a group of people who were tailgating**. They almost readily agreed to lodge our bags in the backseat of their car. I was satisfied with the arrangements.
4. Plastic Bags: Douglas Adams must not have thought his thoughts through when he underlined the importance of towels. I ardently believed his words when I first read them. But last night changed all that. Towels are not the most important item to be possessed. Towels are haughty, they take up space, but draw up a stench when they are done drying you. Towels demand attention. The most important item in one’s possession is the unassuming plastic bag. They barely take up any space, they can carry a ton of stuff, and more often than not, security guards don’t really mind them.
So, I relieved my bag of its contents and burdened my plastic bag with all of what I had. I exchanged numbers with my bag’s temporary landlords, agreeing to a safe receipt of the backpack. We then quickly walked back to the stadium. It was a surprisingly short walk, and quite refreshing, and not at all long and filled with dejection. The security guards were quite happy to let me and my plastic bag through the gates and I took a deep breath.
5. Phew: I don’t quite know what happened to my breath. It was taken from me I suppose. There I was, a few rows behind the dugout, seeing in the flesh, the likes of Ryan Giggs and Darren Fletcher talking, planning on going about the evening’s business. Giggsy, talking, training, teaching his younger colleagues, and the rest of the playing squad training before kickoff. I have a welt on my arm from all the times I pinched myself. This is where I am at a loss for words. Words do not sufficiently do justice to the feeling you get when you achieve a dream that you have been having ever since you were a child. The match by itself lacked the intensity of a league fixture. It was as the Northern Irishman put it later, “ a glorified training session”. But none of us had complaints. It was a chance for the fans to see their favorite team in action, in the flesh. Also, this was my first time at a stadium where I was so close to the players, that the display on the giant screens looked like cheap imagery to me. I soaked it all in, the near misses, the groans from the fans, the chants, everything. And soon, it was time to head back.
PS: I got the backpack back safe and sound. The landlords were a very sweet bunch of people who didn’t run away with an empty backpack, so much for the distrust in people that we have been instilled with.
In Wodehousian fashion,
PPS: This blogpost provides many life lessons. For the impatient reader who skimmed to the end here is what I learnt:
1. Never carry a backpack to a stadium…(any stadium). You will be dejected and will have to endure seemingly long walks.
2. Keep your eyes open, you never know who you will run into. Your phone be damned.
3. There are decent and friendly people out there who are willing to help you in tiny ways.
4. Always keep a plastic bag with you, two for the more conservative type of person (fairly largish medium sized ones).
5. Something that Louis CK taught me…experience the now using your eyes, forget the memories you save on a phone for the future.
PPPS: Sometimes you may want to share an amazing experience you had with people near and dear to you. That is not always possible, for a variety of reasons. In those times, write a blog post.
**an American pastime which involves drinking cheap shitty beer in parking lots in order to avoid drinking overpriced shitty beer in the stadium.
