the outlier №244 - gifts and magic
trying for joy
This week I rounded up a few summer essential reads and other pieces, most of which could belong to anyone. See what you think.
Last weekend, I received some kind sentiment about The Outlier from various acquaintances at the Premiership Rugby Final who I had to remind to ‘like’ the letter by pressing the heart icon at the top or bottom of each piece.
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joy is harder to convey than sadness
It’s not easy to write something that focuses on the good and it sounds silly to talk about magic but last weekend, I saw it a few times.
Bath Rugby won their first title in almost 30 years by winning the Premiership Final. The actual match was terrible and the day way too hot but the aftermath, both on the day and spanning the next, you realised that what happened was magic.
Firstly, crowds of people stayed behind for hours after the final whistle to mingle and cheer. It was a sold out stadium packed with families and people of all ages, something of a commercial success for a sport under fiscal duress, but it felt like a spiritual success too – a community celebrating softly in the concourses and carparks, not willing to leave just yet.
The following day, the team took the trophy on an open top bus tour through Bath’s tiny city streets and the people turned out to meet them. I tend to cynicism towards these things, and even sympathetic journalists raise an eyebrow at how the squad has been constructed under salary cap restrictions, but you could see how much it meant to the city. A city where I grew up and spent some adult years too. A city better known for tourism than rugby these days, a place with a few too many chains amid the beautiful Georgian buildings that are becoming increasingly unaffordable. A city that is truly beautiful, somewhere that if you get the luxury of an early morning or a dusky solitude, you can feel mystery rising from its streets.
An old friend came to stay and we biked to the stadium. He talked about how recently, he was feeling jaded when the barn owl that sometimes comes to the field next to their house arrived and he realised, there is magic in the world. He just needed a reminder.
Oddly enough, when we cycled back, enjoying a burrito and a final pint by the river in Richmond, we luckily took the longer route back through the park and were forced to stop by a herd of deer crossing the road, one by one in single file.
When we finally had enough of that curious, intimate experience, mere metres from a herd of one of my favourite animals, we continued along the road and a group of stags were sat in an open field, facing toward the horizon over which the sun had recently disappeared, the late day haze on its final descent, their horns silhouetting against the sky.
This time I didn’t take a photo. Whatever I captured couldn’t contain what I felt.
a book
Check out my summer reading recommendations – I’ll be experiencing Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels for the first time and couldn’t be happier about it.
a listen
I’m not usually into country music but I’ve been watching Yellowstone so this song has caught me at a good time.
a quote
Words belong to each other
– Virginia Woolf
lastly
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