This post needs a title. Neymar ek kannie dinkie. James is 14 and Spurs should be grateful for the support
The picture shows a person who is quite concerned about his appearance. He does have the most remarkable hair, which you can almost make out. He makes the most of it.
He loves clothes. He loves shoes. He loves his music. He is ridiculously popular and loves his friends. His friends love him too. And he goes to school five days a week
BUT
That only takes up 10% of his time. Perhaps less. The rest of the time he obsesses over football. I know obsessions, I have them too. But I pale in comparison to James' love of this odd game. He has favourite teams in every country. He has favourite players in every team. He has his team(s) and he watches games and plays football and loves Tottenham Hotspur (I still call them Spurs, but I don't think that's the contemporary name). This was his brother's team, like James, Oliver was also obsessed, but not to the extent that James is. He has football team shirts, many, and still wants more. He is now the proud sleeper in Spurs pyjamas. Oy vey
The thing is the encouragement to love football never came from me. I'm a rugby and cricket man. He's not interested in those sports. He's joined this cult of people who have their teams and rib each other all the time. I was watching him play school soccer, he's kitted out properly with the bandana and the correct boots, he looks the part. I was sitting next to a father who accused me of giving my son Spurs because I was a supporter. God no, this is all his own. I can't hold a conversation about any round ball. But James can.
We've been some maths together (he calls it math - I mean really). Which is great because I don't know how to do any maths, he's been teaching me. We've developed a system of turning maths problems into football problems. This sounds good in principle but if I give a fictitious scenario he'll tell it would never work. "Why," I may cautiously ask. "Because, Bangbar Nutcracker, who is the emergency submarine in the deeper back forward committee within the inner Hebridean Manacle Structure of Spurs would never allow it."
He's got me at that point. I have to beg him to imagine the unimaginable.
We do have fun. I'm learning something and I think he is learning as well.
He's now 14. That puberty period where he is stamping his own authority on the world. It's wonderful to watch but I do miss the little boy. I somehow think that that little boy will always be there. I watched him and Iris being silly in Prince Albert. He had the best time. He had the whole upstairs. He said to us that he has a double bed, he can sleep on the right side or the left side or the middle side. He has his own bathroom and there's wifi. The overall implication was that there wasn't an older brother to cramp his style. James' style thrives anyway.
It's been a year for him. He's lucky because he's already in the school that will take him through to matric. Unlike his former preparatory school mates who are all moving onto other schools. James is sorted. He's popular and very busy. There's always a party somewhere, and he's always invited. There have been a few Bar Mitzvahs where he's made speeches (the content seems to revolve around the person's poor taste in football teams).
He was also nominated to represent his school in the JHB Mini Council. He did his bit (as did his father who would fetch and carry - we found ourself in deeper Soweto on one occasion). And of course he's already made friends with a few of the kids on the council.
It's been a good year for you my Flop, JimJam, Jamfertz and many other nicknames. Next year is your grade 8 year (standard six for my benefit), five more years of school. These are big years. Keep focused and you'll be a ridiculous success.
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