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In Dread and Promise
The crowd was mostly young. Bookworms, sweatered paramours, and fans of underground rock slowly filled the Edinburgh Festival Theatre in anticipation of a performance that would end the 2016 Edinburgh International Festival. We sat on the upper tier, far from the stage and yet able to see every nook and cranny. The theatre’s curvature made it appear as though we were on the edge of a concave lens, just a short lean away from tipping ourselves into the hundreds of seats below.
The program read: “Mogwai & Mark Cousins”. We were there to witness a non-narrative film of archived footage assembled by Mark Cousins called Atomic, Living in Dread and Promise. The feature was scored by the Scottish band Mogwai, with many in attendance solely to see them play.
And that is what they did. With no bombast or introduction of any kind, they strolled out into the orchestra pit, equipped themselves, and began the show. Their strides out were greeted with mild cheers silenced quickly by the dimming lights and deafening volume of their instruments. The vibrations reached into our bones as a large projection illuminated the space above the stage. A man’s face appeared. He began, “The government has decided, that in the present state of international tension, you should be told how best to protect yourselves…”
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The Gravity of the Game
Groundskeepers prepare the field and wicket at Hagley Oval, Christchurch, for a test match between New Zealand and Sri Lanka in December 2018.
So optimism was rationed like wartime jam. For most of the day Lord’s was alive with anxious chatter, a jittery, skittery babbling, “what do you think, can they, could they, will they, maybe?”
– Andy Bull conveys the crowd’s temperament during the 2019 ICC Men’s World Cup Final
Lionel Messi stares up at his final peak. Kylian Mbappé prowls in the foothills of greatness. From the Andes to the Alps, from River Plate to the banks of the Seine, our planet unites around its ultimate game.
– Peter Drury invites us to witness the 2022 FIFA Men’s World Cup Final
The morning of December 18, 2018. Summertime in full flow, a taunting breeze wafting in from the hostel room window. A crucial decision to make.
I have just 64 hours to explore Wellington, on this lap, and the certainty of rain the next day has all but been confirmed. My prepared itinerary mocks me on my phone – the planned indoor-outdoor balance now thrown askew. The sun, shining bright since early morning, will continue to raise temperatures throughout this, my only full one in the city.
I could go, as I had originally desired, to the Basin Reserve. It will be Day 4 of a test match between New Zealand and Sri Lanka. My only chance to observe two giants of the international game, likely for many years to come. If I take this route and the rain falls as promised, I check the cricket box but miss out on many other outdoor sights under a perfect sky; tomorrow being the opportune time to explore the capital from the drier side of the window.
Or I could skip the Basin. Mount Victoria would be a nice hike. The waterfront is abuzz with activity. A nice trip on the cable cars perhaps, followed with a stride through the lush parks on the way to Zealandia. But the age-old duel between bat and ball beckons…