Song

On page 62, Buford learns the supporters' "Hector Song" regarding traveling around on the tube for free:

Ha ha ha

He he he

The Hector's coming

But he can't catch me.

On the racks

Under the seats

Into the bogs

The Hector's coming

But he can't catch me.

Ha ha ha

He he he

The ICJ is on the jib again

Having a really g-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d time.

There are a few rhetorical devices in this song that are interesting just because it's interesting that a song this short and simple would incorporate rhetorical devices. There is repetition with the "ha ha ha" and "he he he" at the beginning and the end, which shows continuity in the feeling of the song (62). "The Hector" alludes to the British Rail ticket collector while the "bogs," "racks," and "seats" all allude to the train carriage and how it is set up - this part implies that the supporters run and climb all over all areas of the train in order to stay away from the Hector (62). There are two instances of rhyme with "he he he" and "but he can't catch me," showing that the giggles of "he he he" are related to the fact that Hector cannot catch the football supporters on the train to make them pay (62). The rhyme shows that the supporters find this fact very funny, and they go so far as to say it twice. 

So turns out this nonsense song isn't quite as nonsense as I previously thought, but actually has as little bit of meaning underneath the rough exterior. 

Tattoo

As Buford admires the tattoos of the Manchester United supporters with a kind of sick amazement, he reveals a lot to the reader about the people who wear them. The flesh of the supporters is "bright pink... and burning rapidly," implying sensitivity and weakness (48). This weakness is compared to the "hot needle poking its way across the skin, filling the cells underneath it with ink"and suddenly the skin of the supporters does not seem so fragile (49). "The pain... the blood... [and] the rawness" that Buford describes makes the reader cringe and "wonder about the person that would do this to his body" (49). The tattoos that these fans print onto their bodies are not feeble, half-hearted matters. They are full-on, demonic pieces of art are ingrained in their flesh in very conspicuous places. These supporters are very serious. They supporters have made this their life and purpose. Buford, as he realizes this, cannot help but criticize the ridiculous of it while admiring the dedication. He describes the people as "something to behold" and explains the tattoos as "murals on the flesh" (48). However, he cannot help sneaking in sly criticisms such as "and in the hope, perhaps, that Robson would neither be traded to another football club nor ever die" when describing a name tattooed across someone's forehead (49). The tone of this passage is at the same time awed and critical of the behavior exhibited.

The Way - Documentary

First Thoughts

My first thought when I started reading Among the Thugs and understood what it was about, was "wow that's so true." I love soccer and I play soccer, yet I lived in Scotland for four years and never went to a single professional soccer match in the UK. The games are exactly the way Buford describes them. People drink a lot in the UK to begin with (tends to happen when you're stuck on a cold rainy island with no sun your whole life) and the normal amount of alcohol assumed by the British is approximately quadrupled in the presence of footy, as they call it. It gets pretty rough. All professional stadiums in the UK that I've seen have bars available for every seating level. And the tour guide at the Arsenal stadium made sure to tell us about the time when nearly the entire stadium missed a goal thirty seconds into half time because they were all still in the bar buying more drinks.
And it's not like it's a really diverse crowd going to see these games, no way. Large, white, football-going British men all look alike. Mick from Among the Thugs is slightly more hardcore than most, yet I would say he's a pretty adequate stereotype.

Moral of the story, Bill Buford is an extremely brave man for mixing in with those men voluntarily. I certainly preferred to keep my distance.

Don Juan

I enjoyed CNG's version of Don Juan, it was very funny, but at times it was hard to follow. And I, not being familiar with the story of Don Juan at all, found myself a little lost. Here the version of the play I watched afterwards to see if I could follow it better. I couldn't. That version is very traditional and I didn't like it one bit and I didn't understand it. 

The most confusing part about CNG's version of the play was the ending. It seemed really random to suddenly damn him to hell when there was no mention of religion throughout the rest of the play. I guess that was one thing the traditional version did make more sense in: the religious aspect was present throughout. 

Overall, however, the play was very well done and very funny.