The Bandwagon Shop: How loyalties are defined in sport
‘Sometimes you look in a bandwagon and you see a cow and you think it’s a better cow than the one you’ve got in your own bandwagon. It’s a fact. Right? And it never really works out that way.’ – Sir Alex Ferguson.
‘Even no bandwagon is a bandwagon.’ - Dennis Rodman.
A Bandwagon
Little Tommy was all alone in The Bandwagon Shop, and he had no idea where to go.
He’d heard a lot about The Bandwagon Shop from everyone. His friends, his uncles, his father, they wouldn’t stop talking about it. Which was rather strange, considering it didn’t exist. You would never see any of them entering The Bandwagon Shop, much less leaving it with a bright red bandwagon. And yet, as soon as they came out, you’d know.
Of course, they wouldn’t talk about the shop per se. In fact, they never mentioned it. How could they, when it didn’t exist? It was more about their bandwagons, their bright shiny better-than-the-others bandwagons, and how life would be much better if everyone had the same bandwagons. He’d seen all his friends with new bandwagons all the time and dammit, it was time he got himself a few as well.
They didn’t cost a lot, these bandwagons. They were, in fact, free. Absolutely free! You would think a shop with all items priced at zero would never run. I mean, you’ve heard of a One Dollar Store – a Zero Dollar Store would be rather over the top, wouldn’t you say? Then again, it didn’t exist, so it was very hard to fault the working concept.
Tommy took a deep breath, and walked in. All around him were bandwagons: big and small, bright and dull, old and new. Some of the bandwagons seemed to be large enough to fit a number of smaller bandwagons in them! Feeling utterly lost, but excited nonetheless, he looked around, looking for something to start with.
He saw a large bandwagon that said ‘Football BWs’. He’d recently started watching football, so he moved towards it, only realising, once he was 10 feet from it, that it was a huge structure with several smaller bandwagons of varying sizes inside it! ‘This is the largest shop I’ve ever seen!’ Tommy whispered to himself.
Even as he spoke the words, he saw another couple of bandwagons right next to ‘Football’: ‘Cricket’ and ‘Tennis’. They were slightly smaller, but with a large number of smaller bandwagons inside each of them as well. On the other side of ‘Football’ were ‘Basketball’, ‘Wrestling’ and ‘Athletics’. There were a few more, but Tommy lost interest in everything else when he stepped inside ‘Football’.
It was a world within a world. The Football Bandwagon seemed to have more wagons than the entire Bandwagon Shop! Which was rather absurd, but still not too hard to believe. Right in the middle were two beautiful carts with ‘Ronaldo‘ and ‘Messi’ stamped on the fronts. Immediately Tommy thought of the player he preferred and even as he thought it, he saw a slight twinkle on one side. Curious, he went to see what it was and was taken aback when he saw a miniscule ‘Little Tommy’ etched on Ronaldo’s cart. ‘This shop can read my mind!’ said Tommy.
He walked on, past the bright blue Chelsea and the not-so-red-anymore Manchester United. So many of his friends had owned Manchester United bandwagons. As he peered in for a closer look, he saw many names, but to his surprise nearly half of them had their names neatly scratched off. Roger Bryce, his next door neighbour, was one of them.
‘Strange’, thought little Tommy. ‘I could’ve sworn Roger had a Man City jersey somewhere. I wonder why his name is here. Shouldn’t it be on the other cart?’ And sure enough, when Tommy pulled up by the Man City bandwagon, a sky blue and majestic looking thing, he saw ‘R Bryce’ written in a corner, only this time it didn’t have a line drawn across it.
As he walked past a few more carts, Tommy began to appreciate how cleverly the shop had been arranged. The large magnificent ones like Real Madrid, Barcelona and Manchester United were prominently displayed, understandably because most the customers liked to head straight for these wagons – reliable with the sure comfort of numbers. However, the newer bandwagons, not as established but popular all the same, were also placed rather strategically.
Indeed, there was a German BandWagen that was filled almost entirely by the Bayern Munich cart (this is the New FCB!). The yellow, almost defiant Dortmund Wagen seemed to be fighting for space with the mammoth FCB but it looked like the battle was almost lost. In between both the carts was a small red and white little wagon that said ‘Lewandowski’. ‘Odd’, thought Tommy. ‘He’s neither here nor there’.
Neither here nor there. Mostly there though.
It was the same with the ‘Spain’ wagon, except there were only three carts in it – Real Madrid, Barcelona and Others. Even as he watched, the ‘Atletico Madrid’ wagon valiantly fought its way out of the Others pile and sat itself down right next to the Big Two. ‘Just for that, I’m going to write my name on this stubborn little wagon’, said Tommy. Sure enough, there was the twinkle, and the name was etched. As Tommy walked away, he didn’t notice the Atletico wagon grow just a little bit bigger.
The Italian wagon seemed rather plain-looking compared to the others. This, in spite of it having some of the largest wagons: Inter Milan, AC Milan and Juventus. At least Juve was still clean, albeit not too shiny. The Milans were positively grimy, in need of a good cleaning. They needed to be oiled too, for it looked as if the wheels hadn’t been changed for nearly 10 years. What a waste of perfectly good wagons!
Now bored, Tommy left ‘Football’ and walked into ‘Tennis’. This wagon was also rather large, neatly bifurcated into two distinct areas – Men and Women. It was a little different compared to ‘Football’ though. There were only player carts in this wagon – no team, no country. Not unlike most of the others who came to the Shop, Tommy ignored the Women and made his way to the well-lit section of the Wagon.
There were four large carts in a circle in the centre of the area, with a few smaller ones forming a circle around them. Tommy’s face brightened when he saw ‘Andy Murray‘ in the inner circle. Not even bothering to see if his name had been written (it had), Tommy moved closer to see if the other three were the usual suspects (they were).
Federer’s cart, however, seemed to be in need of repair. It was shiny and polished and grand looking, but on inspecting it closely, Tommy found a lot of cracks that seemed to have existed for some time, which had seemingly not caught anyone’s eye. It had certainly not stopped people’s names from being written all over the wagon. Nadal’s wagon seemed to be standing on stilts, but still looked like the sturdiest wagon of the lot. ‘Whoever made that wagon put in a lot of effort’, mused Tommy.
Ferrer, Tsonga, Berdych and Wawrinka were among those that made up the outer circle. Wawrinka seemed to be a little out of line, almost as if someone had deliberately moved it closer to the inner circle, but had thought better of it midway. It was definitely shinier than the others though. There weren’t too many carts in Tennis, and sure enough, in fifteen minutes, Tommy was ready to leave.
Cricket was the next destination. It was a very curiously designed bandwagon. There seemed to be a mammoth ‘India’ wagon inside the ‘Cricket’ wagon, but the entrance door to both was the same. It was the same with India and Sachin. They too shared the same door – it was impossible to have Cricket in India without Sachin. This, in spite of a rather large ‘Retired’ board that was hung on Sachin.
It took Tommy almost 15 minutes to walk through the Indian wagon to the Others (you had to walk through India to get to the other countries. It was like that in Cricket. There was simply no other way). By the time he’d reached West Indies and Bangladesh, Tommy couldn’t quite understand why he’d entered Cricket in the first place. Disgruntled and disillusioned, he walked out.
How to Not not overdo things.
After a bit of window shopping in Basketball and Wrestling, where the big bright ones caught his eye, Tommy decided it was time to leave. He didn’t even bother to look at Golf and Athletics. On his way out, he suddenly realised he hadn’t really paid for anything. He didn’t have a receipt, no bill, no proof of name-etching. How would he show off his bandwagons? Feeling rather foolish, Tommy left the Shop.
It was only then that he heard a creaking, rickety rackety noise right behind him. Imagine his surprise when he turned around to find a set of small bandwagons, neatly linked to one another right behind him, with Tommy right at the front. Bewildered, he looked around, ready to shout for help, when for the first time, he noticed the wagons on other people too, people who were just walking down the road, quite oblivious to the racket behind them. It was then that it finally struck Tommy.
‘I am the Bandwagon!’ With a big grin on his face, he rushed home.
‘You are the bandwagon you are’ - Osho.