maggisfarm

w

I remember someone telling me that at Christmas 1914 the British, French and German troops near the Western Front stopped war for a day to play football, whereas one day later they continued shooting each other in the drenches. How can you be so schizophrenic I thought then, why wouldn’t you just keep on playing and forget about the war, now that you've looked into each others faces. Well …

I must say the situation, that made me think of this historic event, is constituted in a slightly different way. You say love and war have nothing in common? I’d oppose.

This is the story of a friend of mine and his girlfriend. They met in Lyon some years ago, got to know each other, then got together and have been a couple ever since. It’s an old tale, the ups and downs, the distances and all the joyous as well as weary moments they’ve shared. I’ve never been together with a guy long enough to gain admission to this prospect, but hey! I’ve read a lot of books and saw movies. I do have parents and walk the world with eyes wide open, so …

Somehow they managed it all and I mean, there is obviously a difference whether you’re 27 and meet the woman of your life or whether you’re 17 and on an exchange to France and slowly discover she might actually be the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.

We’re approaching the plot - I can’t really go into much detail here since it’s some one else’s love story - but yesterday I got a phone call from him saying he played football during war. What is there left to say?

Have you ever sat in front of cartoons and seen that cute little mouse hiding under a saucepan to escape the evil cat that wants to munch her up? And have you also seen that sweet little kitten close to being tortured by a monstrous slavering bulldog? This is not about the food chain, but the situation is somewhat similar.

First I gasped for breath, then I thought what an arsehole and then he told me about his infidelity. I’m not saying, the passion, that the two of them experienced, justifies their conduct. I’m just saying, life’s a bit more complex than the old betrayal-faithfulness-sort-of-thing. And the main question that kept me awake last night was, is an affair the football match during war or is it the war disrupting the football season? Because if you got that straight, you can keep on passing the ball around and still make the most equitable decision.

I know, I would have killed that boy. He’s lucky, she’s not me or rather I’m not her. But even then, she must’ve known they were at war. I told him, there’s many ways to end a battle, and maybe football should be the last option to choose.