Our Danish Corner writer, Jess Rasmussen, looks at ‘walking away in a huff’ and is it ever worth it.
I’m not saying, that this feeling is a perfect stranger to me – in fact, hardly any feeling is – being offended, walking out in righteous and childish fury, turning my back on everyone, never to come back. But throughout my long life, I discovered every time, that it carried nothing in its basket for me. And I turned back every time. I think. Well, almost.
For the first time I saw myself in the footballer Christiano Ronaldo the other day, when he pompously left The Old Trafford in anger. Because he had had no playing time on the field throughout the match against Tottenham, which Man United won 2-0. Without Ronaldo.
Well, I was always more of a Messi Man than a Ronaldo Fan. And I never thought much about Man United, until the quiet great Dane, Christian Eriksen became a member of the team.
Still, stiff legged, stiff backed and righteously (as he thought), self-righteously and childishly (as I thought) offended as he was, there was a moment, a short one, when I couldn’t tell him from me. He was me as a child, as a man, an offended one. Turning his back on the world, walking the wooden, wounded Pinocchio walk.
The entire football world has since been hammering down hard on him. Now, they were the righteous. Me, I kind of liked him for the first time. And believe me, he is a hard man to like for someone like me.
Well, there’s no walking out on vaccines, not once the needle is in and out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a grown man without a silver paper hat, and I think vaccines are a gift to mankind, but the other day, once again, I remembered myself as a boy and as Ronaldo. If I had been able to do so, I would have walked out retroactively, stiff legged and stiff backed, grumpy and righteously offended. Never to come back.
But I was hardly able to walk. Being an emeritus, I was offered not only the fourth pinchazo against the Covid but also, the following week, a lottery thing, concerning the flu vaccine. Normal dosis or four times the normal dosis. It’s an experiment aiming to prove whether a quatriple dosis is more effective. My wife pulled the normal dosis, I pulled four times the normal.
A couple of hours later, I got run over by a bus and a steam roller and a Russian tank. I was sick as a dog with the rapid flu. Multiplied by four. I still am after almost a week, but as we say, the magazine must on the street, come rain or come rain. For days on end I have been unable to look on the bright side of life or doing much else for that matter. Couldn’t even walk stiff leggedly out of a football stadium. Let alone have any playing time on the field.
So I cleared my throat and said to my wife, who had only the normal dosis of vaccine and no symptoms at all: “Sorry, I’m such a bore.” “Don’t think about it, you always are. That’s normal..”
I felt my back stiffening and my face turning ronaldoishly offended. With some difficulty I got up from the chair, then I sat down again. Christiano carries nothing in his basket for me, and anyway, I choose to think my wife just made a joke.
I wiped Ronaldo off my face and forced myself to grin shortly. Like a dog’s bark. Or a cough.
(International Feature: Danish Corner)