Author Bio & Stories

Fredorrarci

Fredorrarci is a staffer at The Classical and the proprietor of Sport is a TV Show. He lives in Ireland.

  • June 20, 2012
    You Do It to Yourself

    It wasn't just that Ireland was outclassed during its brief, bruising Magical Misery Tour through Euro 2012. The problem was that, after fans talked themselves into believing in the boys in green, the team played such dispirited, pessimistic soccer.

  • June 13, 2012
    Kick Me Again, Jesus

    Maybe it's a sensation that more regular qualifiers become blasè about, but when your team hasn't been to a major tournament for ten years, or a European Championship for 24, to see your team actually there—in the actual stadium, on the actual pitch, in front of the actual world—leads to explosive goosebumpery. But, as Irish fans (re-)learned the hard way against Croatia, the game has a cruel way of dealing with that sort of hope.

  • June 8, 2012
    Theirs Not To Reason Why

    Being a soccer fan invariably involves more cheering for the jersey than the player wearing it. For the national teams competing in Euro 2012, that's doubly so. Players don't just play for a national team—they play for their country. Which means they play with all the hang-ups and other issues of that country, too.

  • May 30, 2012
    The Janitor in the Panopticon

    The referee is a parody of God. Nothing officially happens unless he deems it to have happened. But he and his assistants can only see so much. Why was this incident called a foul when that identical one was not? Because the ref saw this one, and not that one. The ball crossed the line: surely it's a goal? Ha! Your physics are puny next to the fact that the linesman's view was blocked.

  • May 22, 2012
    Anxiety is Freedom

    Were anxiety to be expunged from football, the game would be desiccated, infinitely smaller, its mythologies individual and evanescent. We can't have that happen.

  • May 8, 2012
    Remembering Hearts and Heads

    How the Irish respond to their national football team's current success is viewed through how the Irish responded in the old days. And the days of Jack Charlton and 1988 are the old days. There's a script to follow for Ireland, and it's getting stale. Fans consciously look to our footballers to lift us out of our national gloom. Back then, we didn't expect anything in particular. A benign national fever just happened. The rush is a bit more forced these days, but not at all unpleasant for that.

  • April 24, 2012
    All You Need is Hate

    I tried to appreciate United. I tried to appreciate Chelsea. I tried to appreciate Tottenham. But it proved impossible to watch any of these sides without fizzing into a toxic puddle of weapons-grade hatred. 

  • April 16, 2012
    FC Santísimo

    A rare and special excerpt from a forthcoming novel torn from the headlines: A man dares damnation to have his revenge on tiki-taka.

  • April 10, 2012
    The Atom and the Void

    On the occasion of Mario Balotelli's devouring of himself, a few thoughts on fame—what it is, how it distorts, and how it can hurt, obscure and confound—seem to be in order.  

  • March 27, 2012
    The Pure Motive

    Lionel Messi endures barging and all manner of grappling; studs to the hip; ankle taps and sneaky shirt-pulls and successive outrageously late sliding tackles. Sometimes, the assaults Messi endures look almost choreographed—his obsession with staying on the ball mirrors our own fascination with watching him.