Football/Business.
One hell of a sport.
Just like the game of life.
A poetic Sport synonymous with Business to me.
The spark plug to the soul, getting your engine going and your mind revving up to heightened reflexes and quick thinking.
Growing up, I had a little pipe dream of one day being a Footballer.
But the nature of the game I was exposed to back then in the professional sphere of things was a tad bit lackadaisical to my psyche.
There were 2 kinds of fields to beholden in this poetic sport synonymous to the eccentricities of life.
The 1st kind: The Systemic Big Field of Monotony.
1. The blur and monotonous running after the ball, in a field where the goals are so apart, they're barely visible. Perfectly placed beyond the glass ceiling.
2. Just like corporate growth, if you may comprehend, an annoying coach/boss irking your guts and not letting you immersively think. It's a creative sport that needs the diver’s pause on the footboard before he jumps face first into the water and not bells and whistles on the sidelines, with a ruckus of timbrels and drums being beaten upon telling you what to do.
3. But each to his own. Some love the complacency and futility of a field beyond my area code, to run around accomplishing a little something but...
Not me.
It's like a snail's growth curve in a big corporation. What's the possibilities of being the CEO/Director on the global scale? Close to none.
At best, a little leashed walk outside the cubicle.
A little salary hike.
An inconsequential promotion. A 0.0001% increment…blah blah.
Just like the Big Futile Field. Like a dog chasing its own tail.
That too is a kind of life...but not mine.
The 2nd kind: The Free Runner's World of Consequences.
Synonymous to starting your own BUSINESS.
Penning your own blog.
Possibilities are endless.
Dimensions of this field are as much as you can fathom and not beyond your wavelength.
The controls of this car from accelerator to break are all yours.
The steering taped to your hand.
It's yours to ride or die.
Something like (Futsal)
Or a smaller turf.
Or Football in a parking lot.
A small field that can be glanced upon with precision and detail.
In the game of life and artistry - I love complete monarchy over my jurisdiction. Creative Direction - Quick thinking.
The pacy environment of a field where you can shred the opposition by yourself, and with a little help if needed.
That's the conditions one must create.
To monopolize the game of organization and hierarchy.
A flatter structure to accomplishing things.
Where defender turns striker when needed and doesn't have to embark on a train journey as witnessed in the other fiasco of the Big Complacent Field of Green.
And in the hours of meditative contemplative hiatus, it's some alone time flying above the stratosphere like an eagle’s maneuvers above the cut of the limiting sky.
Freestyle Football.
Where your knife being your mind is sharpened and the finesse and skill being honed and channeled like you have a ball magnet for a foot, and the like poles changing order for you at your whim.
Nature defies itself, with your intense drive for perfection.
The game as I knew it and loved it was the game with exfoliable layers, with a lot more substance and character which was kind of “Lost in the Sauce” with all that running about and the corruption to get into "The Team", which bled the seeker's impassioned soul dry with the rigging that went behind the scenes.
In my professional stint, I've left all my accolades behind as the real prize was the Creative Metamorphosis I experienced when "Ball met foot" and “artist turned poetic”.
If you didn't notice, football is metaphorically business to me, and business is football.
I like my team lean and hungry like a pack of lions taking formation to go for the kill.
Football, like any other Creative outlet, must invigorate and not exasperate.
If you experience a little weighty dogmatic pound of another man's vision for your psychological, spiritual and creative diet, get back to the drawing board and look for an escape to the field that can be easily glanced upon at one panoramic sifting of the eye.
Introducing me:
Zech. Creative Director. Freestyler. Freerunner. Forerunner.
SPINNING POETRY INTO BUSINESS AND BUSINESS INTO SPORTS.
IT CAN ALL BE STRINGED TOGETHER IF YOU "FOCUS"
Your ball is the power you've been bestowed upon since birth. In the futile and rubbish system of formal schooling turning soulful men timid and compliant, exhausting and obfuscating true soul searching and abilities to find direction.
You've probably missed out on all the truth you'd already find in covert pockets away from that daily fruitless toil of "showing up".
You forgot to find your superpower that the Creator has gifted you with.
The one thing you're world-class at, where your mind can operate at optimum speeds even with your gearbox in neutral. Because it's YOUR Zone... and I guarantee you.. the formal rigged spheres of overt emphasis on “formal education” isn't it.
It could be…
1. Art
2. Writing
3. Business
4. Technological Expertise
5. Architecture
6. Designing
And the Likes…
Chase WorldClass status.
BallPark Brain
// poetry
Beyond the woods I go,
I look for my meticulous mind;
Beyond the horizons I run,
In obscure places it's hidden behind.
What we know to be widely true,
Seldom can be the go-to place;
Honing of your talents happens in the basement,
The Rat race is but a haze.
Obfuscating, long systemic grind,
A silly pursuit of a cat milking a cow;
All he needed was to find the farmers yard,
That clever cat is the master now!
Pursue finding direction with precision,
Like a wave in the ocean of lies;
When Creative man meets System,
Even the most charismatic artist dies.
Brand New Football Movies ft. Zech here:
(Click the titles to view, ciao)