It’s January and Hollywood is celebrating its own. “La La Land” is already dancing down Sunset Boulevard clutching seven Golden Globes and is hotly tipped to be singing out at the Oscars after similar success. The best musical since “Singing in the Rain” some proclaim, while others wonder what this throwback to 1950s, MGM self-indulgence is doing on the contemporary film circuit, let alone in winning awards.
I spent the other Saturday afternoon with my family cosseted in our local picture house here in Scotland, thoroughly enjoying the colourful and highly entertaining spectacle that is “La La Land”. The story involves a wannabe movie actress who [literally] bumps into an idealistic jazz musician and how they learn from each other that if you want to realise your dream, quitting is not an option, but being pragmatic about how you use your talent will help you to get there. Anyway, after the show was over I came back out into the real world only to find that the Boro had predictably ground out a 0-0 draw at Watford. I got to wondering: are we living in La La Land on Tees? And then, if we are, who are the characters that inhabit this Tinseltown of the North?
First of all I thought of the idealists, the jazz enthusiasts out there – the ones that recall the acclaim that came to the Boro teams of yesteryear, that played with pure artistry in their hearts and that embraced the precocious talents of the golden haired one, or perhaps even the Samba Pa Ti of the little one. That is what we should be seeing now: the magic that a ten second burst of improvisation brings to the otherwise tedious cacophony of unfathomable formations. No matter that we do not have that maestro now, and have not, as of yet, been able to attract him; we should be playing as if he was here now. Far better to go down in glorious failure than to endure the monotonous repetition of the metronome as it passes from side to side, to side, to side…
Next I considered the wannabes, you know, the ones who believe they have all that it takes to succeed as a manager or coach; who believe heart and soul in the [best] advice that they are giving to Aitor Karanka and Steve Gibson – as well as to anyone else that should be listening. These managers by proxy, with experience garnered from decades of adorning the terraces, watching in the parks, scouring the back pages, being informed by MoTD and ultimately confirmed on Sky Sports. Yes, with experience they are eager to share so readily, sometimes even on these pages. They are the ones that know who should be at the auditions. They know who deserves to be called back and who will make the final cut in the transfer window. Yes, these are the ones that know best who can razzle dazzle ‘em on the park. But nobody is listening, at least not in the directors’ chairs that matter. No, the trouble is that those that actually do decide have their own view of how the match-play is scripted and what is the shape of the face that is going to fit so effortlessly into the mould fastidiously prepared for it. Therein lies the problem. The decision maker is often just too blooming obstinate to listen.
Then came to mind the quitters, the self-doubters, always lacking in self-belief. It is not working for us. We have tried and tried. We have shouted ourselves hoarse from the sidelines hoping to make a difference and all to no avail. However well the team performs, it’s always not good enough. Why should we keep on trying? We are never going to be successful. Clearly, we do not have what it takes and never will have. What is the point? We really do not belong at the top table. Who were we kidding? Better all run off home now before we embarrass ourselves any further. Get back into our comfort zone, where we belong – back into the Championship. We are never going to win anything so why bother? Why don’t we all just give up now?
There are always the pragmatists of course, living in the here and now. They know what it is going to take to survive. They are not overly concerned in the manner of how you get it [success] even if it means you have to compromise any sporting ethic you may cherish. There is a formula that can bring success now, success on the terms by which every newcomer to the elite is judged – the criterion that is survival. What point are dreams if you will not survive to realise them. So stick to the formula. Grind out that result. Grin and bear it – even try to enjoy it. OK, so what if the purists walk away, we will still be up there in the EPL, even if the ones that still come don’t really enjoy watching any more.
In this, our own Hollywood to where the Diasboro are drawn, following the men by the steel river and yearning for the glory they will bring, that is the dreamland. But the dream has a heart and a truth and there is no reason why the dream should not also have a reality if you are patient enough to wait until the final credits.
For sure the purist might appear to sell his soul, apparently turning his back on the beautiful game so as to carve out survival in the only way most newcomers can – by being unbearably hard to beat. Of course there are those in the media who will not accept you and will continually overlook you. You just must keep on believing. Stick in there. Consolidate what you learn and what you earn until you have some security [of tenure in the EPL] so you can go invest in your dream. You will have earned the right to do so, you will have the wherewithal to achieve it and you will have gained the respect of your contemporaries – some of whom might just want to come and play with you in your club, join in your struggle and help you to discover the best talent in the next generation.
Fairy tales do not happen: you truly are in La La Land if you think otherwise …or maybe they do. Ask the nearest Leicester City supporter. Only remember, they did have to hang on in there before they had the opportunity to live their dream.
Post Script: A few days after submitting this, I read in the Daily Record that following their 4-0 trashing at Everton, Pep Guardiola took his Manchester City squad to a private viewing of La La Land. So maybe some of us, or all of us, or even the management itself might be able to learn something from Hollywood after all… just sayin’ like.