Learning from Soccer: Buying the Scarf

Two of my favorite local institutions are in trouble.  I am referring, of course, to the Atlanta Silverbacks and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra.  Although they both play on Saturday night, there are some differences.  For one, the Silverbacks are a minor league soccer team and the ASO is a major league orchestra; the ASO wins Grammys, and I've never seen the Silverbacks win a game.  I've gone to the ASO, off and on, ever since I moved to Atlanta and I first went to a Silverbacks game a couple of months ago.  I learned about the doubts about the Silverbacks' future near the end of their season, and the lockout delayed the start of the ASO's season.  Both organizations are losing money; the Silverbacks are owned by some guys who have been cutting costs and still haven't turned a profit, and the symphony is under the Woodruff Arts Center board which has been cutting costs but actually is in charge of a not-for-profit entity.  The Symphony has terrible brochure -- whose idea was this terrifying naked flying nymph motif? -- and as far as I know the Silverbacks do not.  (I just included that last part because I have wanted to say something about the terrifying naked flying nymphs for a while, and this really was my first opportunity to do so.)

I started going to the symphony when I was in medical school.  I bought a series subscription to open rehearsals, and sometimes splurged and got tickets to concerts.  So it's natural for us to go to the ASO; that's something we do.  But not everyone goes, even as much as we do, and that's the rub for the ASO.  There should not be empty seats in Symphony Hall.  How do you grow the audience?  (Probably not with terrifying naked flying nymphs.)   But I will give them credit for trying something new last season, with the first Friday concerts that are earlier in the evening, only an hour long, and less expensive.  I've heard that other orchestras have tried late night concerts with a more club-type atmosphere.  But they really need to fill the seats in Symphony Hall with full-fare ticket buyers.

Which brings me back to the Silverbacks.  I had never been to a professional soccer game until a couple of months ago.  I am not very knowledgeable about soccer (I still don't understand what "offsides" means) and I have never been that much of a sports fan.  But once I went I wanted to go back, The first game we went to, we ended up sitting behind Terminus Legion, one of the supporter groups, and that made it lots of fun to be there, even though we lost the game.  (The Ottawa Fury ended up with six yellow cards - not exactly what we expect from Canadians, I might add.)  On our way out that night we bought Atlanta Silverbacks scarves, and later both Iain and I joined Terminus Legion.  We came early to games and joined Terminus Legion's tailgate party, and Iain sat with them on the front row and played the drum.  I sat a few rows back from the group but joined in the chants (my personal favorite -- after a questionable call, "I'm blind - I'm deaf - I want to be a ref.")

A week ago on Sunday there was a fundraiser for the symphony musicians at Moe's at Ansley Mall.  This had been scheduled before the lockout ended, and ended up being more celebratory than originally expected.  Throughout the afternoon and into the evening musicians and members of the chorus were there, and recordings of the symphony were playing on the sound system.  (I've never heard Mahler in a restaurant before, I don't think.)  This was right after the first concerts since the lockout had ended, and we were so glad we had been at the Symphony on Saturday night.  A long talk with a violinist from the neighborhood, who said she'd seen Tom and me in the audience the night before, and how glad she was to see us there.  She told me that they were working on a new piece by Richard Prior, a local composer who is on the faculty at Emory, and they'd be playing it in a program the following weekend with Beethoven's 5th, and we should come.  I bought one of the black T-shirts that said "ATL Symphony Musicians" that had been ubiquitous during the lockout.  

After that conversation, I wanted to go to the next concert.  Tom had something else he needed to do, but Caroline was home for the weekend, and she and I went.  It was wonderful. 

I have been thinking about how one soccer game made me a Silverbacks fan, and wondering if something about the symphony experience could change to make it more likely that a first-time symphony goer would -- figuratively speaking == buy the ASO scarf after attending their first concert.  Somehow, I thought, the experience needed to be more social and more participatory.  But maybe it wasn't the symphony experience that needed to change, but my engagement with it.  What made it more social and participatory, for me, was a conversation with a violinist at Moe's about the next concert.  I did buy the T-shirt, although it's not exactly symphony wear.

And the scarf?  The symphony now has supporter groups, too, and one of them is selling a scarf.  Mine is ordered, and I'll wear it to the next concert.

Destruction, With or Without a Permit

First, the good news on the construction front.  The house at the corner of Wessyngton and North Highland, across Wessyngton from where the apartments used to be, is being renovated rather than demolished and replaced with a completely different house.  As it turns out, they didn't even dismantle the garage - it has new siding, as does the second floor on the back of the house.

Another piece of good news is that the rental house on our street that is currently vacant got a new roof put on it this week.  This strongly suggests that the owner doesn't plan to sell it to anyone who will demolish it and replace it with new construction any time soon.

The new, very large house that was built where Angela's house used to be is no longer yellow. It has now been painted a sort of tan color.

Yesterday morning, when I was walking the dog, I noticed something I'd never noticed before.  This is the sign that is in the yard at the duplex -- I took this picture back in September, when the sign was first placed there.

Note the wording:

A. Stillman doesn't only have permission to remove the trees marked with the orange "X," he or she has permission to destroy them.   That's a pretty strong word.  Yesterday afternoon, when I was walking the dog the next time, Iain came with me and I pointed this wording out to him.  Were they trying to make it completely clear that the trees in  question were going to be killed, reduced to firewood and sawdust, and not relocated to some forest on the outskirts of the city where they would live out their lives, safe from developers?  Permission to "remove" the trees might suggest that.

Let's be completely clear about this.  The trees have been sawed into chunks of wood and are awaiting disposal.  They are definitely not being relocated to a tree sanctuary.  This is the view from Lynsley's deck.  (Incidentally, the structure is the upper left hand corner is the garage of the very large new house that used to be yellow and now is tan.)

Yesterday afternoon Iain and I continued on around the block.  Usually we cut through the parking lot at Morningside Presbyterian back to Wessyngton, but I told him I'd noticed a yellow sign on the house on North Morningside near the church that used to have the front yard completely filled with bamboo, and I wanted to see what it was.  So we walked past the house with dog statues in front of it on to this house, which had the ubiquitous dumpster in the front yard.

I don't know what the story is with this house, but there are good sized trees growing on the roof, suggesting a certain degree of lack of attention to maintenance.

The yellow sign that I'd caught a glimpse of from the street was a Stop Work order.  Apparently there weren't the proper permits for construction or demolition. 

There's a large tree in the front yard, marked with two X's in fluorescent orange. But there is no sign from the arborist in the yard, about a request to remove a tree. And looking at the drawing on the back of this tree, in the same bright orange, I am thinking that the arborist didn't paint those X's.

There was this sign in the yard, in front of the house.  I was amused by it, as it didn't seem likely that the intent was to renovate, restore, or renew, unless by renew one meant "demolish and replace with new construction." But of course I could be wrong.

And I guess they're planning on a new tree, too.

Research Made Easy

There are three construction dumpsters on the street right now.  Here's the update.

At the incredibly large house on the other side of Kathy and Steve's house, the one with the great views of our back yards, the siding is up, the windows are in, and the brickwork that covers the foundation is getting done.  The architect has posted his name in front of the house, suggesting a certain disconnect in perception between him and most of us who live nearby.

The siding on the house is yellow, and I assumed that was the final color that the house would be.  That seemed to me to be one of the less objectionable things about it, but Tom thought it was a completely terrible color and was speculating that it was just primer.  Now several different colors of gray have appeared on the front of the house.  I am hoping maybe we'll get to vote for which color we like best.

It seems like that would be a small concession to the neighbors who have been inconvenienced by construction vehicles that obstruct our driveways and the nails left in the street.  One day last week I picked up three 2-1/2 inch nails from the pavement in front of this house.  

Two houses down, at the duplex, they've started removing trees.  Lynsley said that last Wednesday her house shook when they brought them down.

The picture below was taken back in September, after the city posted the announcement that the owner was allowed to remove some trees.  It's not a very good picture -- the back yard was very overgrown -- but they were big trees.  And now they're down.

The only good news on the construction front (at least I hope it's good news) is at the corner of Wessyngton and North Highland, across the street from the still-vacant lots were the apartments used to be.  That house sold a few months ago and has been vacant for a while, but now there's work going on there.  It looks like the insides of the house are getting ripped out, which suggests renovation and not demolition.  They are taking apart the garage - the white building on the right side of the photo below, so maybe they plan to add on to the house.  Or maybe they just didn't like the garage.

There's an article in the New York Times today about researching one's future neighbors, about how neighbors really matter to lots of people, and how the real estate agents either can't or won't tell you anything much about them.  (This being New York, the neighbors are in your building, not on your street, but the principle still holds.)  Since the real estate agent is unlikely to know anything about our street other than which houses might be future knock-downs, I will provide some helpful information that will be easily available to anyone interested in our street who can spell it properly (admittedly, not the easiest thing) and do a Google search.  

Tuesday night a small dog, owned by the parents of one of our neighbors, escaped from their daughter's house and made a run for it.  This prompted a street-wide search involving a large number of people.  Sally brought over Christina's father to give me a description of the dog and Christina's phone number so I could send an email out, which I did.  Separately, another neighbor posted the missing dog information on the street's Facebook page, and the neighbor that had found the dog posted it on Nextdoor.  (Myself, I don't have a problem with redundant systems.)  The exchange on Facebook that followed the dog's return said it all.  Several expressions of relief that Christina's parents had their dog back, and then Christina said thank you, and how relieved her mother was, and "she also commented about what an amazing street we live on!"

That's our street.  If this sounds good to you but >$1 million for one of the new houses is outside of your budget, there's a house for lease right now.  One the plus side:  immediate availability, as best I can tell.  On the down side:  it's between the first and the second construction sites described here, and soon there will be neighbors on both sides with great views of your back yard.  But if this is the kind of neighborhood you want -- a great neighborhood and great neighbors at a more affordable price, or your dog is an escape artist -- it might be worth putting up with the noise for now.  The lack of privacy in the backyard, unfortunately, is forever.

Losing the Game

I've never been much of a sports fan.  I grew up in small towns where high school football was a big deal, and went to a state university in what was then the Big Eight Conference where football was a really big deal.  I went to four games during college -- two on Dad's Weekend, with my father, and two other times when someone gave me a ticket.  That may very well have been the last time I went to a football game.

During medical school, we used to go to baseball games.  I thought for a while I might become a sserious baseball fan, but I didn't.  But it was fun to sit in the bleachers with friends on a Sunday afternoon.  We could get to Fenway Park on the Green Line or even walk.  Later I lived in Durham, very close to where the Durham Bulls played, and I went to games sometimes.  In Atlanta, the hassle factor to get to Braves' games seems significant, and I've only been to Turner Field a few times.  In spite of that, I'm still really angry with them for abandoning the city for Cobb County.

When the kids were little, they all played soccer.  Then, in 2010 the World Cup was in South Africa and somehow we were paying attention.  We watched games, we cheered for the U.S. team, and I mailed updates to Iain during the week he was at Boy Scout camp.  I was in Johannesburg for a meeting right after the World Cup and brought back T-shirts and a vuvuzela.

I was in Geneva the night the first game of the 2014 World Cup was played.  I had gone out for a walk, and on my way back to the hotel, I heard a sound.  It was sort of a roar, and was coming from everywhere.  Every bar, every restaurant with a television must have had a crowd that night, and when anything happened, there was a collective shout that I heard from all directions.  The next morning I had to leave early for the airport.  At the bus stop, I saw people standing on the sidewalk clustered outside a bar that was closed.  I assume they were watching a game on a television that had been left on, facing the window.

Later in June I was in Japan and watched part of the U.S.-Ghana game in my hotel room.  I had to turn the sound off because I found the announcers (who of course were speaking Japanese) distracting.

We watched a lot of soccer this summer.  We cheered for the U.S. team and marveled at Tim Howard's performance in the game against Belgium; even though we lost the game, there was so much pride in how well the team -- our team -- had done.  We laughed at the brief-lived Wikipedia entry, that Tim Howard was the Secretary of Defense, and were reminded that Ann Coulter is a troll.  After the U.S. was eliminated, we cheered for other teams.  

I was with a colleague in a restaurant during the World Cup and a game was on.  The place was full of people who should have been at work, probably, but who were taking an extended lunch break.  We were trying not to watch the game but it was hard not to.  We talked about how soccer is a heart-breaking game.  A game can be lost in a split second, and that's it. 

Atlanta has a soccer team now, the Atlanta Silverbacks.  We've been talking for years about going to a game, but we weren't quite sure where they played or how to get tickets.  But in September Iain and I decided to go to a Silverbacks game.  We got tickets on line and found our way there, to Silverbacks Park, near I-85 and -285.  It was so much fun, even though the Silverbacks lost.  There are supporter groups at the games; we were sitting behind Terminus Legion and they were on their feet, cheering the Silverbacks and shouting insults at the visitng Ottawa Fury.

There was a mascot, a guy (or maybe a girl) in a gorilla suit.

And there was a game that Atlanta lost, 0-3.  The Fury ended up with six yellow cards.  Even though our team lost, it was so much fun.  We were hooked.  We bought our Silverbacks scarves that night.

We saw them play Minnesota United on the big screen at a pub in East Atlanta.  The watch party was hosted by another supporter group, the Atlanta Ultras.  We lost that game too, but it was fun.

The following week we saw them play the Fort Lauderdale Strikers at Silverbacks Park.  We saw -- for the first time -- the Silverbacks score a goal.  (By this time, the coach had been fired and there was a new coach.)  We got to see Terminus Legion fire up the fire extinguishers.

That game ended in a tie, and at that point, a tie felt like a win, and there was another tie the following week against the Tampa Bay Rowdies.  

It was after that game that this ominous post appeared on the Silverbacks' Facebook page.

I don't understand what the issue is but I am worried.  We love going to the games and although it would be nice if the Silverbacks won, it's fun even if they don't.  We missed the game against the Carolina RailHawks, but the last game of the season is this afternoon and I'll be there at the Elder Tree to see the team play Edmonton.  

How serious is this?  Serious enough that Terminus Legion and the Atlanta Ultras have called a truce for the afternoon; both supporter groups will be there for what could be the last Silverbacks game, ever.  I know in a couple of years Atlanta is supposed to have an MLS team, but that's not going to be a substitute for the Silverbacks.

I knew soccer was a heartbreaking game, but I never expected this kind of heartbreak.