Our Intrusive Thoughts & Texts
A Call To Inaction
It never fails. Literal seconds after a gutting loss, my phone buzzes and my brain does its best Love Island impression, “I’VE GOT A TEXT!” The timing gives away the contents of the message in the milliseconds it takes to activate Face ID and read it.
“What’s your excuse this time?”
This is an invitation most often presented from a friend, though sometimes from a bitter internal voice, to debate in true 21st-century fashion; not a spirited exchange of ideas or a point and counterpoint discussion but rather a rapid-fire barrage of kneejerk amateur punditry unloaded upon a forlorn “foe” with the sole intention of indulgence in sweet, sweet dopamine. Dueling dots hover at the bottom of the iMessage screen before one point has even been considered and settled. The topics only get more extreme as the interaction progresses.
READ MORE: My Liverpool Story: It Was Always Liverpool by Joe Johnson
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The Thoughts And Texts Whirl
“So is Wirtz just bad?”
“Don’t you think the Klopp magic is gone?”
“Should Mo get dropped?”
The impetus for this specific onslaught was a late winner from Chelsea at Stamford Bridge this past Saturday. It could be anything, though, and context be damned. Midweek loss at Galatasaray, Community Shield loss to Palace, FA Cup Final loss to Newcastle…it doesn’t matter. The kids may say that “they’ve been praying for our downfall,” but I see it a bit differently.
Expectations are inevitable. Without them, we would be conscientious observers so well calibrated that we’d be better suited for a Buddhist retreat than a day of footy. Expectations are necessary to sow excitement, and not all will be met in perpetuity. So what happens when we’re let down? The mind may naturally seek explanation. However, we’ve been drilled by modern media and a short attention span to embroil ourselves in excuses and overreaction.
Putting Them In Perspective
“Is Frimpong too small?”
“What an overpay!”
“Konate’s Duolingo streak must be crazy!”
Okay. Sometimes they’re funny, I’ll give them that. Whether they’re intrusive thoughts or intrusive texts, we can all choose a more measured approach. The real root question is simple. Why do we love football? Is it because we go into every Saturday looking for a guaranteed result? Maybe because we’re looking for an excuse to throw dirt on a friend’s Saturday? An opportunity to invite someone into misery?
Not for me. Likely not for you. I think most of us deep down have an earnest adoration of the sport that can be beautiful, exciting, enraging, uplifting, and demoralizing on any given day. And maybe that’s why we support Liverpool, a club built on greatness without grandeur, a lunchpail work ethic, and a knack for the unexpected.
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It would be a lie to say our boys don’t have work to do. After seven Premier League match days and two in the Champions League, we’ve got an unfinished product on our hands. We only just had heavy turnover with our side; eight impact players out, seven notable players in, and the tragic death of our number 20.
Our most impactful players have arguably been Grav, Dom, Hugo, and Ali rather than Mo, Flo, and Isak, but the sun is only just coming up on the campaign. Arne has big personalities, immense talent, and undeniable expectations in front of him. If the heart wants to understand why, go ahead and indulge it. Excuses, though? Why do we need them? No book reaches its conclusion in the introduction. If we’re already keen to eulogize this vision in its infancy, why are we even watching?