Yrsa Roca Fannberg,
The Death of a Former Giant (watercolor on paper, 2009)
For most of my life, I've had very specific flying dreams. Mysleeping self unlocks gravity with a
perfect physical coordination. I'll berunning, or dancing, and then somehow both at once - suddenly
I feel weightless.
Yrsa Roca Fannberg, from the male bonding series (2009)David Lynch might have scripted some of the
scenes in our experiment with the American Youth Soccer Organization. Some days, things would be
that baroque, that strange. This was especially true when it came to the security guard hired by
AYSO to monitor the field.
Yrsa Roca Fannberg, from the male bonding series (2009)David Lynch might have scripted some of the
scenes in our experiment with the American Youth Soccer Organization. Some days, things would be
that baroque, that strange. This was especially true when it came to the security guard hired by
AYSO to monitor the field.
Terrance Stamp, as Billy BuddIn the opening pages of
Billy Budd, Herman Melville comments on
the unique charm of a type of man he called the "Handsome Sailor":
A superb figure, tossed up as by the horns of Taurus against the thunderous sky,
cheerily hallooing to the strenuous file along the spar.
Michael Wells, from a series of portraits of games in Lafayette Park, published in Municipal de
Fútbol
Many of my recollections of this experimental league could be shaped like a scene from
Crash, minus the sentimental recuperation of collisions between racism, sexism, xenophobia,
etc. Other memories tap into a very different experience of Los Angeles.
Keith Hackett and Paul Trevillion, You Are the Ref (Lionel Messi, 2010)It was our league's first
season and one of our first really competitive matches.
A linesman walked off the field in the middle of play. He threw aside his yellow flag and muttered
"Working this game isn't worth risking my life.
Michael Wells, Lafayette Part (2008)"You don't belong here!"
It was a surprising turn in the argument.
We were standing on the sidelines. I was in a heated discussion with an AYSO parent/volunteer who
played in our league. (We were arguing about field 'security' - the subject of a forthcoming post
in this series.
One of Pico Union's many murals (intersection of 7th and Westlake) A couple years ago, I helped
establish an adult men's soccer league in a neighborhood just east of downtown Los Angeles. Our
league was affiliated with the American Youth Soccer Organization (AYSO) and only lasted two years.
It has taken me a little time to gain some distance on what was both an incredible and depressing
experience.
