“He gets caught, they’ll give him a flogging that will waken his father in the grave,” Farid muttered.

“他要是被抓住，他们会用鞭子打得他父亲从坟里醒过来。”法里德低声说。当然，票上没有座位号码，没有人礼貌地指引我们到哪一区、哪一排就座。

There was no assigned seating, of course. No one to show us politely to our section, aisle¹, row, and seat. There never had been, even in the old days of the monarchy². We found a decent spot to sit, just left of midfield, though it took some shoving and elbowing on Farid’s part.

从来就是这样，即使在旧时君主制的那些岁月。我们找到一个视线很好的位置坐下，就在中场左边，不过法里德那边有点挤，推推搡搡的。

I remembered how green the playing field grass had been in the ‘70s when Baba used to bring me to soccer games here. Now the pitch was a mess. There were holes and craters³ everywhere, most notably⁴ a pair of deep holes in the ground behind the southend goalposts. And there was no grass at all, just dirt. When the two teams finally took the field--all wearing long pants despite the heat--and play began, it became difficult to follow the ball in the clouds of dust kicked up by the players. Young, whip-toting Talibs roamed the aisles⁵, striking anyone who cheered too loudly.

我记得在1970年代，爸爸常带我到这里看足球赛，那时球场上的草多么绿啊。现在则是一团糟。到处都是洞和弹坑，特别引人注意的是，南边球门门柱后面，地上有两个很深的洞，球场根本没有草，只有泥土。等到两支队伍各自入场——虽然天气很热，所有人都穿着长裤——开始比赛，球员踢起阵阵尘雾，很难看到球在哪里。年轻的塔利班挥舞着鞭子，在过道来回巡视，鞭打那些喊得太大声的观众。

They brought them out shortly after the halftime whistle blew. A pair of dusty red pickup⁶ trucks, like the ones I’d seen around town since I’d arrived, rode into the stadium through the gates. The crowd rose to its feet. A woman dressed in a green burqa sat in the cab of one truck, a blindfolded⁷ man in the other. The trucks drove around the track, slowly, as if to let the crowd get a long look. It had the desired effect: People craned their necks, pointed⁸, stood on tiptoes. Next to me, Farid’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he mumbled⁹ a prayer under his breath.

中场的哨声吹响之后，他们将球员清走。一对红色的皮卡开进来，跟我来这城市之后到处都看见的一样，它们从大门驶进体育馆。一个妇女穿着蓝色的蒙头长袍，坐在一辆皮卡的后斗上。另外一辆上面有个蒙住眼睛的男子。皮卡慢慢绕着场边的跑道开动，似乎想让观众看得清楚些。它收到了想要的效果：人们伸长脖子，指指点点，踮着脚站起。在我身旁，法里德低声祷告，喉结上下蠕动。

The red trucks entered the playing field, rode toward one end in twin clouds of dust, sunlight reflecting off their hubcaps. A third truck met them at the end of the field. This one’s cab was filled with something and I suddenly understood the purpose of those two holes behind the goalposts. They unloaded the third truck. The crowd murmured in anticipation¹⁰.

红色卡车并排驶进球场，卷起两道尘雾，阳光在它们的轮毂上反射出来。在球场末端，它们和第三辆车相遇。这一辆的车斗载着的东西，让我突然明白了球门后面那两个洞究竟起何作用。他们将第三辆卡车上的东西卸下来。意料之中，人群窃窃私语。

“Do you want to stay?” Farid said gravely.

“你想看下去吗？”法里德悲哀地说。