Letter Twenty-seven | 12/16 | Zach

Portland

Dear RLs (but mainly Lack at this point),

I'm writing this late on Friday, sitting at one of our favorite hangs, Low Tide Lounge, because I've been so busy hanging out with Russel these last couple of days that I forgot I was supposed to cover this letter for him. It's been remarkably easy to fall back into our old, joyful routines, despite not having seen each other in a little over five months. Yesterday we saw a movie (Empire of Light, it was aggressively okay), played indoor soccer (a draw; I hurt my ankle), went out with friends. Today we played a long boardgame.

In a way, this project is a diorama of the ways we, all our friends, relate to each other. Certainly soccer is often a central and driving force in many of our scheduled activities—whether we're playing, watching, designing a board game, or writing daily letters. But even with our shared passion for the sport, the depth and breadth of our connections sprawls wildly in all directions and leaves us (as evidenced) unwilling or unable to focus solely on 22 players kicking a ball.

And to me, that is the beauty of what you and Russel have done here. A commentary on the word "authentic" in soccer discourse becomes an essay on how the striving for authenticity in our own expression is an inherently self-centered approach (my words, not technically yours). Soccer isn't the focus here, but it is the entry point. It's the hook, the chalk-outlined framing of a broader discussion about life.

So with that said, I'm going to talk actually specifically about soccer for a bit.

With the final approaching (I don't care about the third place game, it's honestly dumb that it even happens), I can't stop thinking about the role Antoine Griezmann has played for France this cup. Watching his positioning against Morocco was not just fascinating, but, to me, the thing most worth watching in that entire match. If someone offered me a rebroadcast of that match that focused solely on him, I would watch it instantly.

For me, perhaps unlike for those who would discuss things like the authenticity of his play, what’s fascinating isn’t the way he executed his tactical assignments (immaculately), but what those assignments actually were. Quite simply, I've never seen a player asked to play such a varied role: pressing high on the right side in the midfield, then dropping into the middle of the midfield line in the low block (like more of a 6; he had multiple clearances and interceptions from inside the goal box!), plus an attacking role, popping up anywhere on the field.

To expand on your critique of the way in which we talk about soccer, I feel as if the discourse of the casual fan, or certainly the commentator, is overly focused on action. We talk about the passes, goals, or tackles made, but rarely the hundreds or even thousands of off-ball decisions made that allow those actions to be taken in the first place. 

This is how soccer players can, as you say, "contribute to whatever is being constructed in a particular situation,” by synthesizing information and relating it to the plan and organization they're operating under. Sometimes these decisions can be relatively simple, and some roles are more tactically demanding than others. But, to perform at a high level, one really has to not only make their own decisions, but also simulate and predict the decisions of everyone around them. This mental performance, however, is often imperceptible to an observer; it doesn't get the plaudits that a single strike on goal can receive.

So, for me, Griezmann is the player of the tournament, not because of his stats or numbers, but because of how mentally, tactically brilliant he's played. Will it be enough against Argentina? I think so, but I suppose we'll all find out soon enough.

Speaking of soon enough, I'm thrilled to see you very very soon.

Best,

Zach