Dear WSC
I’m sorry for having caused a misunderstanding with a line from my piece, Hardcore Football. Of course Derek Megginson is perfectly right (Letters, WSC No 111): Matthäus, Völler and Klinsmann were neither born in the Ruhr, nor have they ever played for a team from this region; actually, few places can be imagined that are further removed from the Ruhr than these gentlemen’s respective birthplaces. And that, I have to confess, was supposed to be my point.“Matthäus, Völler, Klinsmann . . . they all come from here, the Ruhr” was not meant to be taken literally; it functions as a metaphor (to avoid another complaint: yes, in highbrow lingo it’s a synecdoche). I thought a reader would stumble over this statement and, as a consequence, have a closer look at the err, subordinate clause, “the place where German football was spawned”. No matter how smart, suave and stinking rich these modern pros may be, they are still footballing descendants of the men with furry brows and callused hands. That’s what I wanted to say; and I thought it would work, because few people ran out and checked JFK’s birth certificate when he claimed, “Ich bin ein Berliner.” Alas, it’s not what you want to say, it’s what you say. Any misunderstanding in a text is always the writers;’ fault; metaphors are tricky bastards, and they have fooled better writers than me. We all make mistakes (Derek made one too: Pelé wasn’t born in Scarborough; he was born in Tres Caracoes, Brazil; it’s true that he spent the summers of his youth in Scarborough, with his uncle Simon Garfunkel, but he never would have qualified for Walter Winterbottom’s team). I promise to be less pretentious from now on.
Ulrich Hesse-Lichtenberger, Witten (birthplace of nobody), Germany (home to few)
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