I had a nightmare last night, about a basketball game in The Rose Garden. In that game, nothing their way, the Blazers had turnovers on almost every possession, took ugly shots and nobody got a single rebound. The fans pride and admiration for their team was followed by scorn; enthusiasm by acerbic criticism; dreams of greatness by deep depression and general pessimism.
In the midst of the disaster I could see, amid the booing crowd, a group of different fans, as a company of soldiers standing in square formation around their Blazeredgers flags and spitting "cheer up!" in the place of musket balls, in court direction. Amazingly, they were going at a measured pace, without breaking ranks, dauntless, closing every breach opened by an enemy artillery that drained buckets and mores buckets. Defeat reach them at nightfall, but Blazeredgers still were soldiers terrifying, even in defeat, chanting at the tempo set by the slow tattoo of their drums.
I approached to the youngest of them, a boy who wore a t-shirt with "Soulja2boy" sewn to it, and I asked him why they didn't boo. It was a trap, I was trying to make him to show some kind of pride or snobbishness, or to react as a professor, like "You must show your players how to be better, not how to be worse". Or even a fanatic "What impels a man to desert the legions of God and pass into the iniquitous ranks of the heretics?" Which only could have sense in a dream. He seemed surprised and did not answer, as if he did not understand. And do Your Mercies want to know what this boy replied after I repeated "why you didn't boo?" "We were too tired to boo from crying".
I had a dream last night.