August 12th 2018

A big day. Normally. The start of the football season. My team West Ham United were on TV for the opening match. They lost 4-0. I just sat there watching. Or not watching. Then posted on Facebook

“Well, who knew? For the first time in my life I sat and watched West Ham with not a flicker of interest in anything, Didn’t care they lost, wasn’t much bothered how they played and realised, by the end, I wasn’t even watching.

Life will be interesting if this continues for the rest of me natural.”

Yes, of course it changes. But not much. Words that constantly crop up in football and sport in general: ‘Tragic’, ‘Disaster’ ‘Unthinkable’. They have real meaning in grief. The first time West Ham scored a goal and I jumped up in celebration was a few months after. I avoided football for a while as it didn’t seem right to attend and, in fact, celebrating that goal felt wrong. I stood up, glanced around nervously and sat down again. Grief is good for putting your priorities in order.

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