2023-09-10 08:03:30
Kurtz, the head of an ivory exploitation who mysteriously disappeared in the Congo, said in Heart of Darkness: “Ah, the horror! The horror!”. If Kurtz had seen this England-Argentina game he would have exclaimed: “Ah, the mistake! The mistake!”, adding a grimace of disgust that Joseph Conrad does not describe in Heart of Darkness.
They say that error is the mother of knowledge, but there are certain errors that teach nothing and do not allow us to learn anything. Certain errors only allow covering your face with your hands and crying. Not even crying: it makes you want to forget regarding it, turn the page and move on to something else, like watching the birds fly, if there are birds, or the trees shaking in the wind, if there is a wind. No birds, no wind, just rugby, but English rugby. Nothing Argentine comes to mind, except error, of which we might consider ourselves inventors if it were not for the fact that history teaches that it existed before we set foot on the globe. We take error with us wherever we go, the general discourse begins like this: “The error was…”. Because the only thing there was was an abundance of errors, an overproduction of errors. Argentina is a factory of errors. And I’m not just talking regarding rugby.
And don’t talk to me regarding the claw and all those names that inflame resignation and fear. Mistakes are made when you don’t know where to go, but also when you don’t know where you are. They are complicated things and at the same time very simple. You cannot fail, because the person in front of you capitalizes on those mistakes without making the mistake of making a mistake. It seems like a play on words, but the difference between the professional and the amateur lies exactly there: in the ability to capitalize on the opponent’s mistake. Among amateurs, the other’s mistake can end in nothing, but when faced with a team like England, the mistake means catastrophe.
Ah, the error! The error!
The error is of two types. In reality there are many types of errors, but the errors we saw yesterday in Marseille are of two types: attribution error and possession error. When both errors are combined, feeding each other, the result is 27 to 10. The attribution error consists of moving as if one were something one is not; that of possession consists of being what one is, and in this way confirming that one is far below what is required.
In the opposite field is George Ford, who scored all 27 points for England without breaking a sweat. It is regarding doing what we were designed to do, or better, what we choose. We all make mistakes, no doubt. But exceptionality is implicit in the same expression: we all (from time to time) make mistakes. But what do you say when all we do is make mistakes? There is no word for that. Or maybe yes, but I don’t remember it now.
Once a certain level of submission has been reached, errors are not enough to justify it. I don’t know what the direction should be. All I know is that once we reach a certain level of ineffectiveness, it doesn’t matter who makes the mistakes: all I know is that they must stop.
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