A review by frogwithlittlehammer
Anyone for gulli-danda? by Marjorie Garber, Terry Castle, Amia Srinivasan, Heathcote Williams, Gabriele Annan, Jane Holland, Tariq Ali, Karl Miller, Benjamin Markovits, David Runciman

funny informative reflective

4.0

I’m not sure why I find sport so sexy in its complexities. Perhaps because it’s a veritable spectacle rather than a game. There also exists a rather amusing obsession with some round bit or ovish bob or invisible line; assigning incredible importance to something that becomes a pile of flap once deflated and all that Barthesian jazz. Maybe they’re so sexy because sports have the power to move and break down even the most odious of men. The rawness of the game, the down bad desire to win, well it’s just too seductive for anyone to resist. 

My favorite essay was about doping, because I was always a staunch believer in that if you were willing to do it, why should you be punished for wanting it the most? Barthes would say that it’s tempting fate, basically interfering with god’s plan/esprit. Which is fitting anyway because sports are a religion—though at the same time they can be socialist (as one essay points out, associations such as the NBA and NFL redistribute the wealth aka talent to the teams who have the greatest need.) 

The “did they/didn’t they” element of doping is also part of the mythification of sport. Sports have a natural gift of creating narratives out of nothing, first made evident to me in Don DeLillo’s teleological tome, Underworld. So that’s pretty sexy too. I’m rambling now but it’s because I’m trying to figure out  why I adore sports culture so much, even though I rarely partake. What I do know for certain though is I miss playing tennis with my friends 😓