Sinister: confused ramblings
rachel tucker
rachel at xxx.uk
Sun Feb 6 16:55:25 GMT 2000
i'm not sure how to write about what i want to write about now. it's been
going round my head, all jumbled and tangled and i can't get the thoughts
straight. so forgive me if what i say doesn't make sense; it's because it
doesn't make sense, not to me anyway.
i went to the football yesterday. the match and outcome aren't important,
they were overshadowed by the fact last saturday a guy called martin
aldridge
died in a road accident, and the game was played in memory of him.
he was 25, and had played as striker for both teams involved, oxford and
blackpool. i didn't know him, i only met him out on the lash a couple of
times over the time he was with us. yet during the minutes silence the sheer
weight of memory i have for the man hit home.
i saw this guy doing his job for 90 minutes at most twice a week for a
couple of seasons, yet i felt like i knew him. is this wrong, inappropriate?
he expressed himself through the way he did his job. do you, the people on
this list feel you know stuart murdoch through his songwriting? i know that
during certain songs i do, yet i've never met him and to be honest i don't
want to, it could only be a let down.
but i think i know my dad, after all he's my dad. yet i see him at the most
for an hour a night during the week and maybe more at the weekend, if i'm
lucky. so for all those hours that i don't see him, what does he
do? what's he like? is he exactly the same when he's mr tucker, systems
analyst, or when he's good old graham down the pub, as he is when he's my
dad? does he even exist? i was at work the other day and this customer said
that she'd seen me in her daughter's school photograph. she was really
shocked because she'd assumed that i worked in co-op all day. so to her, and
various people in my town, my existence is entwined with that of a
supermarket, even though i only spend a tiny(ish) proportion of my time
there.
for martin aldridge's family yesterday they witnessed 5000 football fans
honour martin aldridge the striker. did that confuse them as much as it
confused
me? i can't get my head around his life away from the football pitch, but at
the same time assume things about him and his life from how he acted on the
football pitch.
and now he's dead.
i'm stuck now, my incoherent ramble can't find a way out of this.
rachel xxx
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