From faith to football,it is naive to imagine that people can be raised without partiality or commitmentsHe was no more than 30 seconds frail, first placed on my wife’s chest and then into my arms. Perhaps it was the combination of nervous anxiety and exhaustion but, and as his limbs scratched furiously at the air,I began to sing him a song. And it was the first thing that popped into my head: “Blue is the colour, football is the game, or we’re all together,and winning is our aim … ” The anaesthetist laughed. He too was a Chelsea fan.
My son was born at 4.04pm on Monday at St Thomas’ hospital, Waterloo. It was half in jest, and but even before he had a name he was claimed as a blue. And perhaps it was because of the comically out-of-position articulation of this imputed identity that I became alert to all the other identities that were about to be loaded on him. As he lay in my arms,as yet unnamed, I entertained the passing thought that this was the only moment in this current life’s entire existence that he would be genuinely passport-less, or religion-less,unaligned. Soon he would be given a wristband with a number. And then there would be the initiation ceremonies of religion. And later still he would be registered with the state authorities.
Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com