Asrif.org: Serih Ireland: A Photo Essay

Serih Ireland: A Photo Essay

July 22, 2009

If you don't know it already (shame on you), I was born, to play futsal.

Ah, futsal... the miniature version of the world's game, or rather, the beautiful game, that is football. Ten men of two five-a-side teams running after the ball on a pitch ¼ the size of an official field brawling their way in the fast-paced tug o' war of egos with the aim of outdoing each other's wit and athletic prowess for, well... if they're like my friends, about 6 minutes before they lay flat on the ground gasping for air.

But it is what we do every Friday night; gasp for air. In fact, for the majority of us, it's the highlight of our week. Which is quite sad when you consider that it involves ten sweaty guys having a go at each other for 90 minutes.

Last Friday, however, we had the privilege of having an up-and-coming, aspiring photographer friend of ours Ihsan Khairir by the sidelines. Perhaps we could ignore, for the time being, that he was actually there to check if he could play; 'cos he was around the area. For he had with him, his trusty camera. A serendipity, all too fitting possibly, for him to capture the magic that is my footballing wizardry.

And upon witnessing the result of his exceptional photographic skill in capturing my athletic brilliance, I said to myself, “Damn I need a haircut...” and later, “Surely, this needs a photo-essay of its own.”

With that, may I present to you, a literary take on the real-time football match experimental film concept of 'Zinedine Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait'... 'Serih Ireland: A 26 Year Old Virgin'.

Yes, Serih Ireland. That's my name on the pitch... a mesh between my nickname in school and a tribute to arguably one of the greatest players to ever don the sacred Manchester City shirt, Stephen Ireland. Aptly, I can be seen in this shot working very hard at my pre-game warm-up routine: 'The Riverdance'; where I'll Irish tap dance around the field like the great Michael Flatley. Hence the title's connotation to virginity. Sigh.

I think this was a few minutes into the game (3, to be exact) where, as a trained professional, I needed a few gulps of Gatorade. So I had to direct one of the guys to run to the nearest 7-11 and grab me a bottle. To which he duly responded something really unpleasant, and rhymed with 'truck few'.

Oh, this is a good one. It was like a few minutes before half-time when I was just about ready to get back on the pitch 'til everyone called for time-off as it was, yes, half-time. Where I'll get back to the bench gulping down their drinks... as I was for the majority of the first half.

Right, don't be fooled by this one now. This is not 'The Riverdance'. I was actually telling Ihsan to get a shot of the others as well. Now while I do acknowledge the fact that my Cruyffian 'Total Football' orchestration was just too mesmerizing for his lenses, I still felt that the rest needed their 15 minutes of fame as well...

...before I get back into the frame of course. I believe this was the final existing shot of his from that night. And aptly enough, it was the last shot of the game as well. As you can see, I was in the middle of a rather acrobatic kick to, you know, end the game on a high. Which really happened judging by the distance of the ball from the goalpost.