Sometimes

When Stringer went the wrong way round the scrum in 2006 and you knew that this was it, we’d won. And it didn’t matter whether you were Stringer , O‘Gara, O’Connell , whether you were in Cardiff, in the pub or at home, you became part of something bigger, a huge loved up synergistic bubble and it was a moment.

Or when Pele stepped over the ball in the golden Azteca in 1970 and Carlos Alberto sent a scorching daisy cutter diagonally across the goal to beat the Italian keeper for the 4th time and it was Brazil’s to keep. And as kids we were there too, we became Pele and Jair and Rivelino on the streets.

Sport has this capacity to lift and bond us, to send us into a delirious rapture, for free; all we need to do is invest a little time and sometimes we can be lucky, get the rush, the endorphin buzz and the sense of connectedness.

 Sometimes.

It’s almost fairytale like, where anything becomes possible – life altered forever and moved onto a different, exultant, plane.

Sometimes.  

For an investment of time, perseverance, patience and love.

Last Monday evening in a North side park, the fawn in the Yearling didn’t die, the sun lit up again on Cormac McCarthy’s road and again, the man and boy became Each the Other’s World Entire, in the park on Monday evening. Guy Garvey sang out Elbow’s anthem a day like this and we answered in tune and knew all the words.

2:1 down, Balla U13s sensed the premier league slipping away to a bigger and more physical Annacotty side.

2:1 down – digging deep.

 2:1 down and not losing a shape.

 2:1 down and still playing football, passing accurately not hoofing but facing into the Asling catenaccio.

See though and that’s the thing, sometimes the good guy wins out.

Sometimes there is justice and those lucky enough to be present sense this too and become part of the right doing, the joy, the celebration of something other, something intangible yet real and in front of you cause you’ve invested and you’ve persevered and ended up lucky.

2:2, an early score in the 2nd half.

Bala need to win, to win the league, a draw is enough for Aisling, the catenaccio tightens and they ignore the fast break, put ten behind the ball.

Some might say cynical for this age group.

Fuck off

From the five year old to his sister cause we’re in the park.

There’s a smell of liquor from your mouth

Sla, to the linesman cause his helpful comment isn’t and @ 2:2 time is running out.

You know when Dunphy makes a fist, rotates his arm 90 degrees and indicates a push, a pressure to indicate a coordinated advance, well they do that.

They attack again, precision passing, digging deep, ball out wide, the winger flies to the by line, beats the defender, crosses, Ryan rises and flicks the header, it hits the post right-sided and,

3:2.

More minutes, too many, and then none.

Balla U13 premier league champions.

He played

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3 responses to “Sometimes

  1. y’all do this all the time, sugar! just so damn powerful and heartfelt. xoxoxox

    (i miss y’all!)

  2. y’all do this all the time, sugar! just so damn powerful and heartfelt. xoxoxox
    +1

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