Little Gangs

His daughter plays basketball. She’s the captain of the under 14 team. Tonight they’re playing against the boy’s team. He didn’t know the rules when she started but now he loves nothing more than taking her to the basketball.

His job is driving. To the airport mainly, chauffeuring business types around town. The concierge of every hotel thinks ‘There’s Simon’ when they see his Toyota pull up outside. Normally his passengers sit in silence or maybe they talk about themselves but sometimes they’ll say ‘What are you up to tonight?’ and he’ll tell them about the basketball.

All these little gangs. Him and his little girl are a little gang. His little girl and her teammates are a little gang. All the parents on the balcony of the sports hall are a little gang who get to know each other more every matchday. ‘I’m Molly’s dad’ he said on the first game proudly and now they all look at him and smile every time she does well. We’d be nothing without our little gangs.

There’s a guy doing a temp job. His colleagues don’t know his name but in the evening he’ll be driving down the motorway. A car of four almost comedians talking about comedy comedy comedy, on their way to a gig. This is who they are. A little gang going along in their car. It’s so important to find the thing that makes you say ‘This makes it all worthwhile.’

The late night hi viz railway workers repairing tracks while we all sleep. Little gangs making the world a better place. And we are so grateful to the nurses on ward 22. What a lovely bunch of heroes who have to pay for their own parking. They earn only the thickness of a hospital bedsheet above minimum wage but you should see them laughing after their shift in the pub across the road or in the staffroom dealing with the admin of this year’s Secret Santa. If it wasn’t for their little gang this job would be unbearable. Patients and their families so grateful to this little gang.

Two trainspotters hold hands. The bookgroup meet every Thursday to talk about how much they like David Sedaris. Overhearing a funny story at work they think ‘I can’t wait to tell this at the bookgroup.’ And all those internet forums overheating with posted replies, people exchanging guitar chords and the bicycle enthusiasts plotting this Saturday’s trip. Planning routes, cleaning much from their bicycles.

Us in a tent at V98. Our little gang hanging out at our first festival, watching bands.

There is so much meaning behind the doors of all of these buildings. All the weightwatchers meet ups in scout huts. Two mime artists waiting for the bus. All the people in their goggles about to swim across the channel, training in their little gangs. And the little girl who asks for a basketball for Christmas. Her dad puts up a hoop above the garage door with no idea what he’s just started.