Subjectivity of sadness. A post far from football.

Quite often I find it hard to elaborate on true feelings in any other way rather than by writing. It's through words that feelings truly can be elaborated upon. By this, therefore I've found myself yet again in front of a screen, my fingers constantly tapping keys to produce whatever comes of it.

Big events in a person’s life have more impact than, I think, we are willing to admit as individuals. If you are happy, it is subjective to wherever your happiness stems from, or rather from whatever causes you to be happy. If you are no longer happy for that reason then you forget why you were happy in the first place, understand? It's even more so difficult to get out of being sad. Sadness is a pathetic word in itself. Children of a nursery age are taught to grasp the idea of 'sad' and thus for me to ever say 'I feel sad' makes me feel childish. It's the connotations that arrive hand in hand with being 'sad' that are what get you down.

That moment where you think nothing can ever make you consider being happy again is something so inconceivable that it hurts some to even think about it. How can your feelings, something you supposedly create, make you feel at quite literally an all-time low? I hate that when this shroud of sadness takes over it runs everything you do. You feel sick to the point that eating is not even an option, not even something you'd usually be crazy for; even though you know you're hungry beyond usual reason. Being sad is confusing, for everyone has their own grasp of it and hence they deal with it in different ways. I'm sure anyone reading this can familiarise themselves with a low point in their lives and remember what they did, or rather didn't do. It can quite literally make you not want to do things that would usually make you happier beyond belief.

Confusion shrouds a sad mind. It's true. Talking can help but there's only so much you can expect someone to say to anyone in a sad situation, especially if they cannot empathise with your situation. Like I said, each have their own opinions. Sadness is subjective in itself, it's a feeling and thus derives from yourself and can only be extinguished by yourself too, as difficult as that sounds. Then comes anger, which travels with sadness in many cases, being sad beyond belief could make even the most reasonable person feel like they are boiling up to the brim. Being unhappy makes you feel scared, the darkest considerations of your mind appear and at times they are all you can think about. That queasy, nauseous feeling you unfortunately receive is a stark reminder that your emotions can really run you. You can't be sick, and yet you feel it; devastating.

Writing this makes me feel quite foolish, I hate blog posts from other users that crave attention by deriving some sort of reasoning towards human emotion. I'm not trying to do that, rather I'm putting across my opinion, for is that not all we have at times? I hate that now as I continue to create this piece I feel like the so many points I wished to put across are now meaningless. Maybe that is a result of how I feel, or maybe that's just true to an extent at this moment. Sometimes it's harder than you imagine to put how you really feel down into words, and in all honesty I felt it easier to write about a feeling rather than how I feel as it helps me consider the eventualities and results of some emotions. It's easier to detach yourself from a situation you may be in than to share it with everyone possible. All in all, the most problematic part of feeling sad is the confusion that you feel, trust me.

RACISM WRONGLY RULES THE ROOST?

Far too common this season has the subject of racism largely overshadowed the actual playing of football matches. Like a terrible disease it looms ever present before every game played by a select few teams, causing a  media frenzy where applicable. It's true to say that, as the supposed most popular league in the world, the Premiership is failing to justify its place at the top of the modern football word right now. It's also true that the select few individuals involved with the racist incidents have not only caused their teams anguish but have only tarnished their own name as players forever.

Once again, I find myself writing about what should be such a medieval issue, it's as if a whole generation has skipped back to the days of Luther Blisset where it was seen as 'a done thing' to call monkey chants onto a pitch and exclaim racist slurs towards anyone of other ethnic origins. We now have fans consistently being spotted doing very much the same, take one such recent Liverpool fan who thought they would project their views of racism in an albeit disgusting manner. I guess the real question here is, when does it end, or rather why has it suddenly re-started? Any footballer of different ethnic origin has probably experienced racism from grass-roots level all the way up, including myself. I treat it as a low blow, it's something that is all too easy to be picked at by the moron playing for the opposing team, something they somehow think will affect me deeply. They're wrong, yet that doesn't make racism any better.

Tom Adeyemi, an Oldham defender was reduced to tears when he was quite literally berated with racist abuse against Liverpool. I can empathise, imagine playing for a lower league team and fulfilling a dream of getting to a stadia such as Anfield only to be abused and picked apart by mindless imbeciles that could never even dream of being in your position? Unfair. Are Liverpool a scapegoat after the Suarez issue? Or has racism really returned that badly to football? If the second is the case then why do we not hear of Championship teams throwing racist remarks left right and centre? The fact of this is that racism affects people, from those who wish to enjoy the game to the players actually performing for the masses. As a spectacle in many respects part of the game is ruined. How devastating must it be to have to witness a team mate break down on the pitch in front of you, one cannot even comprehend.

I have no solution for this, how can we dispose humanely of those who wish to commit crimes against humanity whilst watching their favourite sport? It is impossible, surely to spot a racist from any other man, you can't spot check someone in case they carry a swastika or a white hood and therefore it makes the task seemingly impossible. Fortunately, and this is why incidents of racism are so well documented nowadays, offenders are shamed in newspapers and on television. The use of CCTV at matches amongst many other things allows Police and ground staff alike to find the devilish culprits and bring them to the attention of the world.

Players committing acts of racism however is a totally different matter. Luis Suarez was handed a tidy eight match ban for his foolish language towards Patrice Evra, something he has shown little, or rather no, remorse for. More disgusting still is a certain John Terry who in many's eyes clearly too performed a racist attack on Anton Ferdinand whilst still harbouring the honour of being the captain of the England football team. Something that now has been deservedly stripped away from him, may I add; for the second time. Racism contradicts everything a professional should be, not only a role-model but a respectful individual, for football is a team sport and thus the other twenty-one players on the pitch deserve the respect of you as a professional. If making the peak of your footballing career really means that little that you'd chose racism over football then surely you don't deserve a place amongst the other greats that stand beside you? It's ironic though that Ferdinand was never given his chance to respond to Terry's comment by way of the usual Premier League handshake when the teams next collided. Surely someone who has been abused in such a disgraceful manner deserves the chance to snub a handshake live on television too? After all Terry's lovely outburst was seen by all too.

There is no condolence for racism , it's prehistoric and proves the true worth of anyone who chooses to use it on a football field, or for that matter anywhere. To think that it was all but eradicated from the beautiful game and now has returned with a terrific vengeance is almost heartbreaking. There is no place for this abuse in football, not least from those who are called role-models. The FA is trying with it's bans and yet also contradicting themselves with the 'punishment' for John Terry, when Suarez was given his trial immediately. Everyone should feel the true force of the footballing law against racism immediately for any hope of getting rid of this torrid, backwards method of abuse. The only glimmer of hope is that at least the media seem to be on side with their continuous calls against the matter. Here's to a racist free game... 

The Midfield General R.I.P

The 21st of April 1999 lives strong in the memory for most football lovers. It's not often nowadays you see an inspiration amongst the tantalising workers on display at various football stages across the lands, however this has not always been true. Being an inspiration in football means leading, albeit at times by lifting your team by the scruff of the neck and carrying them through sheer passion and determination, thus reflecting on those around you. Traits that many can only aspire to. Roy Keane performed this against European giants at a certain Turin stage. Far from possessing the exotic turns and shimmy’s of other greats around him, nor the ability to turn a whole team inside out Keane brought forward, in perfect demonstration, a supreme showcase of will and grit to revive a struggling United side on the night.

I write this piece, not as some sort of commemoration of the match itself but as evidence to back my ultimate point. For players such as Keane are no longer existent, or rather needed on the world stage. It was true to say that on the night Keane made even Zinedine Zidane (a man who only the previous summer had rocked the world stage and crushed Brazilian hearts in the world cup final) look almost average. Biased as I may be, Keane was magnificent as a player even when he produced moments of unrivalled controversy (see: 'Alfie Haaland') he also produced pure passion.

For that is possibly what the old midfield general was built on, love for the game, for his club, and thus the on-going persistence to perform and lift the team they played for. The premiership would simply not be a world leader if the unparalleled rivalry between Keane and Patrick Viera was not ever present. They were two similar players, absolute midfield engines who collided like two locomotives on many occasions. It was this beauty in the positions involved that made the role of the 'midfield general' itself so entertaining for the game. I imagine even the most ardent of 'beautiful' football worshippers would agree that football has always needed it's 'grafters' that is, until recently.

Xabi Alonso recently spoke about the use of tackling, claiming it is not a skill, or for that matter an attribute in itself. Is he right, is he wrong? I'm sure many have their own opinions and yet it's true to say that in essence tackling has almost be removed from La Liga itself, possibly at reason for his comments. He proceeded to note that instead teams should defend by keeping the ball; something easy to say when you're included in a line-up that harbours Cristiano Ronaldo, Mesut Ozil and other such galacticos. Yet the fact still remains, at the very top level of football, there is currently no space for what we once perceived as the 'midfield general'.

Bryan Robson did it, Paul Ince too, Keane was to follow, Gerrard capitalised on it and now it remains only slightly in rare amounts with players such as Scott Parker at top levels. It's true to say even now that the old style midfielder, box to box with a desire to win the ball with a tantalisingly crunching tackle cannot exist amongst our current football climate. It has henceforth become apparent that this 'midfield general' has now been replaced with a generic building block structure to suit the current climate of football. This entails a defensive midfielder, take a certain Claude Makele for instance, who instead of being a box to box ball winner is simply a bulldog ball winner. Nipping ankles and consistently collecting the ball to offload to the next block, the playmaker. Barcelona pull this off to dazzling effect. Busquets is hardly a world class player and yet his role allows him to be forever fitted into the best team to currently grace the planet (possibly ever). In this case it is either Xavi or Iniesta who receive the ball and create, darting runs or ghosting through the opposition and providing full game assistance to the strikeforce. The art of this, of course, comes from having the stability of a defensive midfielder who is always present and thus can break an onrush of a counter attack or possibly produce one from his own half.

Claude Makelele brought this defensive role to centre stage with his performances amongst the galacticos at Real Madrid, being an essential link in a midfield that boasted Zidane himself. His move to Chelsea then allowed him to produce this on a Premiership stage, allowing Chelsea, under Mourinho, to become title winners for two successive seasons. It was true that his ability in the position allowed Lampard to go forward and grab his (quite phenomenal) twenty plus goals in a Premier League season. He was then replaced with a similar player, one Michael Essien who did very much the same role, rarely venturing out of the midfield third; instead simply winning and giving whilst providing consistent cover for his back four.

It's true that the defensive midfielder may be better for football, but by no means can it create better entertainment. It's also true that the breed itself of a 'general' figure has all but died out. It's saddening to realise once great figures may never be replicated, and that far from the Premiership as a supposed 'English' global superpower being able to influence with its previously English roles, it is now quite the opposite. It has been subdued by Platini and Blatter's endless concordance to deliver what Europe wants and this instead has rubbed off on the English game with the influx of different owners wishing to buy what the European game requires. Not that this is bad, mind, if you were a certain Sheikh oil baron wanting to buy Football's most coveted club competition then why not simply invest in what everyone else considers to work? Not everyone can replicate Barcelona, and ever more evident it seems is that there shall never be a true English team at the peak of European football anymore. No treble winning master class, no Liverpool of the eighties, instead of the bacon, hash brown, eggs and black pudding it's all gone a bit continental.

Even a certain Steven Gerrard, the man who almost single handily defeated a marauding AC Milan side in the Champions League cannot muster up enough to produce the sort of form that led him to be one of the most desirable centre midfielders of his generation. Although more attacking minded, he was quite possibly the last of a generation in terms of motivational midfielders. Although he did have cover in his role in the form of Xabi Alonso and more recently players such as Lucas, his finest shows of performance came when he took control of the game itself, note also the FA Cup final versus a very surprising and resilient West Ham side.

Evolution happens, I bet thirty years ago it probably seemed improbable that the 'inside out winger' would be so popular in the modern game so it's only natural, therefore that the midfield has progressed towards its current state. It's ironic though that a game that requires so much in the way of energy has appeared to have removed one of its most energetic roles.

ADOPTED LOVE - (SOMETHING I EXPERIENCED)

Distance is something resented by most. We crave to be close to the ones we love, no matter what state we are in. It’s almost instinctive to want to be loved and in many cases to want to cherish those you feel close to, and thus those you call ‘family’. For others it’s a lot harder. Consider if you may, not even knowing the very mother you were born from.

If that’s the case then the term ‘family’ becomes ever so slightly more distorted. For anyone pondering what the state I’m referring to actually is then let’s use the term ‘adoption’ or ‘adopted’. (I’m not talking about the WWF adverts where you can sponsor Tony the Tiger somewhere in Siberia and receive a framed picture, this concerns humans). To me, family means those closest and not always of genetic matches (although, obviously, I have no choice with this). For instance my closest friends are people throughout my life I have been able to consider family too. Yet when questions are raised or I ponder the matter of adoption too long it is changed completely in my own mind.

Imagine, if you will, a desire for an answer to a question to which you know nobody around you can offer any sort of answer that will suffice? Then, imagine this further, for example wondering about this since you were seven years old. A question unanswered is like a seed; it grows and forever blossoms in your own mind, and one that concerns your very origin grows even further resulting in, at times, you questioning your very own self.

Albeit confusing enough to read, trying to muster up the correct words to summarise how it feels to be adopted is very difficult. It’s nothing to do with courage, however, more so making sure it reflects correctly when read. For I’m not some sort of pathetic dribble concerned only with finding my birth mother, far from this in fact I’m quite content with my life as it is. Yet it’s only natural, and apparent that when you’re posed with the thought of being adopted it only evokes a lot of sadness. Although not being something recurring, it’s hard to ignore at times; I notice especially that when I have struggled in my life the thought of adoption comes into my mind, quite probably because I associate this with sadness and thus it comes out in relation.

It’s nothing to be confused about, though. My mother and father are the two people I have known as such for my whole life, I consider myself lucky to have such understanding parents who told me about my adoption at a young age so I could try and come to terms with it, something obviously easier said than done. This is what makes me consider myself special, yes I have a genetic mother and father out there somewhere but I have my real parents (emphasis on the ‘real’) who have made me the person I am today. In my own eyes, the woman who gave birth to me will never be considered my ‘mother’, does this bother me? Not in the slightest. Yes, adoption is difficult, but for me it turned out for the best .

'FAMILY IS EVERYTHING, FOOTBALL BREAKS YOUR HEART'

In many respects a University football beveraging game is hardly the most sincere of places to be. Yet we, who are present have one common factor to be a part of the event; our relentless passion for a sport that we both love and take part in. Usually full of rowdy boistrous comments alongside the occasional beverage or two I found myself last Wednesday staring across at twenty or so other players sitting in complete silence. It's ironic that one event can change so much at so many levels and yet marking the death of a loved football icon from the smallest levels upwards felt like the correct thing to do.

Gary Speed was such an icon. Spending various years seeing his named slapped across the Newcastle and then Bolton Wanderers teamsheets had become a given, for Speed himself was what most now professionals can only dream to be. He was there to play football, a true professional. Albeit nothing in comparrison to the silences held at various stadia across the United Kingdom over the weekend, our small but meanginful tribute to a man who devoted his life to our most precious sport is surely proof in itself of the reach he has as a player. For it is this unity in sport that makes the lowest moments seem recoverable. Football itself has been deprived of an insiprational leader, two boys have been deprived of a father and a wife is left grieving without her partner.

Deaths themselves come laced with irony, they unite those which would usually hate. Football is the most bipolar sport on the planet, scenes of hate echo across derby matches across the land and yet at a time of overall mourning fans come together to form the biggest family on the planet. It had come to my attention when reading about this tragedy that a certain Manchester United fan decided to visit Elland Road as tributes were being laid out around the Billy Bremner statue. In all honesty such a fan would never even speak of their support for the Red Devils around that part of Yorkshire, and yet this was different. Speed's death saw the fiercest of football tribalism put on hold and made way for all to truly remember a great. Walking up to the statue the man clasped in his hand the red shirt of Manchester United, turning to an official nearby he asked 'Can I lay this?' with the reply being 'Of course'. Worried of the reaction from the thirty plus Leeds United fans gathered around he then asked 'But will they say anything?' to which the official then answered 'Of course they won't' and led him to where the rest of the tributes were placed. He then laid out the shirt of Leeds United's most detested rivals in the middle of where various flowers, shirts and other messages were placed written on the back it read 'Gary Speed RIP'. In a sea of white and blue lay a crimson mark of respect, something to show a touching rememberance for everything a man did for the sport of football. This immense gesture from a rival shows Speed's true status in the sport. He had everything a fan loves about a player, desire, battle, pride in the shirt and the ablities to create and score.

Disbelief is the word on this matter for it was only a day before his untimley death that Speed was seen on Football Focus as a pundit, seemingly 'okay'. Where others have tried, though, I'm not here to delve into reasons behind his apparant suicide, this post is far from that; it is more a timely reminder of the way a sudden event can provide unity in a sport otherwise completely divided. Liverpool fans rememembering a fallem Everton hero as well as Sunderland fans paying respects to a fans favourite of their Tyneside rivals. Speed's death was a large shake to the world of football, in the way that a previously considered man who had it all could end it in such a fashion. It's incredible to consider that he was only forty-two years old, and even more incredible that he only retired from football shortly before. Speed's final interview had him say the sentence; ''Family is everything... football breaks your heart'', how fitting in this instance.

THE STATES AREN'T SO UNITED

It's impossible right now to open any sort of tabloid or broadsheet and not catch a glimpse of the 'occupy' movement currently spreading like a bush fire throughout the world. It's far more impressive when you actually put a moments research into the topic, after typing the word 'Occupy' into everyone's favourite search engine, my screen immediately becomes flooded with videos, quotes and blogs dedicated to the current pandemic, now known as 'The 99%' in the states.

To suggest political overthrow is almost irrelevant in its matter entirely, just look what happened to Guy Fawkes; I'm sure nobody wants to be commemorated by being burnt on a fire every fifth of November, yet in actuality what is apparent is that citizens are fed up. Over the past decade or so it's evident that the bridge between rich and poor is vastly enlarging, but why? Democracy is difficult. A statement brilliant in its own effortless alliteration, yet pondering political overthrow doesn't come easy, for many of us fit into the system we and thus do not question what truly may be occurring, or rather not happening. Across the pond (albeit a very large pond) a country's very own foundations are causing it to collapse on top of its own idealised morals and ideals.

The matter as a whole is complex, and yet so very simple. To make it easier for this I've chosen to write in particular about the '#OccupyWallStreet' movement rather than the movement globally (as it has now apparently become quite a pandemic). It started roughly two months ago, with protesters massing in Zuccotti Park, New York which they then have appeared to rename 'Liberty Square' for probable obvious reasons. This becoming a humanoid generator for the movement itself amassing thousands in a camp all connected by their ideals as if conjoined to become one all adjoined by metaphoric cables allowing the ideas of all to be transported mouth to mouth and thus voiced as one in a riot of human will. To be certain, however, from what I have read there is no 'real' riot occurring here, no youths ransacking shops and stealing trainers; alas this is so far from the masses we were treated to in the UK during the summer riots, these are people all fixed on a purpose, that:

"The political system should serve all, not just the wealthy".

It's ironic that America face this episode, after all a country built on all being able to live in their 'dream' and bask in the glory of a 'free' state should have no trouble at all, surely? And yet what 'dream' has American served to it's own citizens now? One of struggle, when a family can barely afford to put food on their own table then nobody can be sharing any sort of 'dream', George Washington must be shaking in his grave (if there's much left of him). For in its basic terms America was meant to be everything England was not at the time, a place for radicals to venture and live off the land; to be free and make money from a 'ranch' and build their way up to the top of the ladder. Tell that to the thirty-thousand protesters staring up at the bankers on the top floors of the buildings of Wall Street then.

From their own website the movement itself states:

"Occupy Wall Street is leaderless resistance movement with people of many colors, genders and political persuasions. The one thing we all have in common is that We Are The 99% that will no longer tolerate the greed and corruption of the 1%. We are using the revolutionary Arab Spring tactic to achieve our ends and encourage the use of nonviolence to maximize the safety of all participants.
The #OccupyWallStreet movement empowers real people to create real change from the bottom up. We want to see a general assembly in every backyard, on every street corner because we don't need Wall Street and we don't need politicians to build a better society."

That is the difference, with no scapegoat leader; the people are as one, unified in one belief to achieve a goal set out for all to believe in. With no visible funding behind the movement itself, there is no group to be intimidated and addressed by the government, nobody to hound and remove to end this group; in fact as a whole it may only continue to get stronger and larger. With it recently being present in over 30 other cities across America, and present outside our own Saint Pauls Cathedral, the occupy disease is infecting all who understand and are affected by their ideals.

More recently, however the residents of Liberty Square were evicted by the Mayor of New York in what can only be described as an act of desperation, why evict those who are being peaceful? There is apparent panic amongst those in charge as clearly the realisation has dawned that many understand that what '#OccupyWallStreet' stands for is not untrue, and affects them too. With multiple arrests and police harming innocent members of the occupation (surprise, surprise) there is only going to be a fiery backlash to this event. No riot will take place as the members still keep to remain peaceful, for they have no reason to react to an attack of political cowardice against citizens of their own country; something that one can only describe as ridiculous. They now have chosen a new slogan after these events: 'You can't evict an idea whose time has come', fitting in the way it broadcasts the ideals of the movement itself, an idea that has simply blossomed under the addition of more members.

"We are the 99% and we are here to reclaim our democracy."

The members claim that the stock exchange has been targeted not just because of the 'bankers' crisis, something very present in the UK too, but because they see Wall Street as owning Washington. That those with money control those with power, as an example Rupert Murdoch controls nearly everything, why? Because he has power, but more importantly he has the resources through his money to control what we see and therefore believe. To shield those from what is occurring means they can never understand the true matters going on. The '#OccupyWallStreet' website described their eviction as being constructed by;

"billionaire Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s predawn raid of Occupy Wall Street at Liberty Square"

and therefore reinforces the matter they wish to uphold, that rich and poor continue to have a schism between them, and this is growing.

It's difficult on a personal level to cite an opinion on a matter so far away, especially when it mildly concerns political overthrow and rebuilding. Yet I empathise with the plight the movement is going through. Thirty-two thousand, five hundred people cannot all be false in their ideals, can they? It's true that after the recession many have been left jobless and to fend for themselves, but in the midst of this organism that is the movement, there are workers with jobs, supporting the views for this is not some sort of flower weilding hippy-march, this is a serious matter being dealt with by those who care and are affected. Too peaceful for the military to oppose, yes, but with strong reason to deliver what they believe needs to occur to progress their country. In all regards if they are wrong or right in what they are undertaking, they have certainly grasped the attention of the world and therefore have achieved the status they wished. The only real problem is that their actual motivation and point makes their intentions easy to question.

99% say the States are no longer United.

DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH

Respect is something I've previously discussed amongst this blog, and irrespective of the matter to be respected it should be in our very human nature to at least hold a little for those around us. Every now and again though there is a contrast in how we perceive respect. Respect is given to those who deserve it, for example Remembrance Day, but also for those who overcome all adversity and still manage to pull through on top.

Luey Jacob Sharp died on the twenty-ninth of October, just two days after he entered into this world. Some may call this an insignificant life, others would disagree and say it has more significance altogether because of the short timespan involved. Meanwhile Luey's father, Billy Sharp (a striker for Doncaster Rovers) performed what can only be seen as the utmost act of remembrance for his little boy. Clearly Sharp will probably never fully recover from the loss of his child, nor will his partner, but the bravery and courage that he undertook just three days after his son's death proves that some sort of hero's do exist amongst us.

This post isn't a tribute to his son, by any means; rather it is recognition of what Sharp thought was right to do after the passing of his little boy. Sharp was courageous, at a time when courage would have failed many others for obvious reasons. Football unites people of all different walks of life, but there are times like these that really show the power of the sport with all. Regardless of his own personal heartbreak Sharp chose to play for Rovers, being given the captains armband for the match and lead his team out against Middlesbrough (and let me reiterate, just three days after the loss of Luey). He requested a minute’s applause be held in memory and as a true mark of respect for his little boy. I'm sure nobody could have imagined quite how he must have felt during this. What makes this event even more spectacular is the obligation in which both sets of fans, and players undertook this mark of respect. With every single fan in the ground standing and applauding, one can only credit sport itself for allowing such respect to be delivered.

Sharp said on his twitter:

"My goal tonight was the most important of my career dedicated to my brave boy Luey Jacob Sharp. I love you son.
"I was crying [during] the minute's applause. Thanks to both sets of fans."

Powerful.

People claim a goal can change so much for someone. It can make a day, ruin a week and certainly give the scorer a feeling of absolute euphoria incomparable with any other feeling on this planet. Therefore Sharp scoring was simply the fairy-tale ending after the seemingly unbearable horror story he had endured over the past few days. Sharp celebrated the goal by revealing a message on his shirt emblazoned with the words 'That's for you Son'; a timely reminder of a fathers undying love for his child. Usually such an action of lifting the shirt would follow with a referee brandishing a yellow card to the culprit but on the day, Darren Deadman (the man in charge) was praised by all for not doing such. It was therefore seen as fitting that Sharp could perform such an act for his son.

Yes, it is only a game of football, two teams and a ball, and yet the pure passion and emotion that was present shows the power of the sport; in the way it brings together people to commemorate and also celebrate events in life, in this case a celebration of what was a life for a very little boy. It's incredible how such a theme could completely overshadow a football match, and demand respect from all players in the game, that is definite unity in sport. With the recent allegations of racism in football this story comes as a simple reminder to all involved that although at times the sport brings out the worst in people, it can also provide the world with moments of absolute beauty; and that at times where individuals are at their lowest it can provide the support and relief to pick them up. Respect is something that should be earned; yet in this case it was deserved.