Friday, June 16, 2006
Aural Memories
An acquaintance, when informed that I've been trying to keep up with the World Cup, shrugged and asked how I watched the games while I was at work.Watched?
"I listen to the games.", I replied.
"How do you listen?. I mean, not the technology. I'm well aware of that. What I mean is how do you understand what they're saying and translate it into the visual?"
Interesting question, that. He loves sports but always watches events on tv. He'll turn on AM sports radio shows, but he never listens to games on them. I mean, he never listens purely. He'll listen to the AM sportscaster homer for the football games, but he always must have the tv on as well.
"When he's describing a run to the left or a pass to the right, well...look I know my left hand from my right, but when you throw in east, west, north, south and all points in between, I have no clue what the guys are doing on the field. Circles, for all I know. I love the radio guy's spiel, but all those words and no pictures?????..Well, I get jumbled up, so I watch tv with the volume off."
I wasn't sure if this was a generational thing or simply one guy's version of the aural/visual state of comprehension. Since I'm listening to the majority of the games rather than watching the World Cup, old memories came flowing back of the days of transistor radios, Catholic grammar school, and daytime weekday World Series games. As with most memories from kid-dom, those World Series were the best. The players. The announcers. The games. As with football (soccer), you knew the dimensions of the field, the positioning of the players, the mentality of the managers/coaches, and the tendencies of the major players. You didn't need to see them; that's what the announcers did for you. If they were really good, you felt the heat of the day, the cool of the grass, the smell of the press box. The crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd, the timbre of the sportscaster were enough to paint you a picture. A moving ever-evolving picture. Coming up with an inventive way to run the earpiece from the radio to one's head so as to escape Sister Agnes of Tarantula's ever beady 20 eyes added to the draw of the radio.
That's how this World Cup is for me. A throwback to the transistor radio days. All that's missing is the crackle of the sound as the ozone settles in for the game.
Sorry to leave abruptly. Great game coming up in 30 minutes, Argentina v. Serbia-Montenegro. Ear's to the speakers.
Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home Verging on Pertinence Just some more disposable thoughts clogging up the hinterlands
<< Home Verging on Pertinence Just some more disposable thoughts clogging up the hinterlands
