In search of a hero....
For some reason unbeknownst to me, the British are desparately seeking a sports hero - a George Best (a huge soccer, sorry football, player in the the 60s, I think) for the new century. Their hopes were great, as the World Cup began, for the rise of new icon. There were non-stop documentaries of their last World Cup win...some how many decades ago? There were daily updates on the status of a certain player's foot. And there were little doubts. The British were on the road to the final, their soccer (football) team the unstoppable force of skill and savvy.
On that fateful day when dreams were dashed, a smaller athletic war was being waged, on the green grassy fields of a truly british tradition. As Mr. Murray swung away, making Mr. Roddick, that other Andy, seem a bit worn for wear, british sports commentators found another hope, perhaps a different hero for their hopes and dreams. The commentary was gushing, a verbal blowjob of effusive joy and admiration. And, within seconds after the official announcement that, indeed, the British would fail to reach World Cup glory, it was announced that Mr. Murray now had the hopes of a nation resting on his shoulders. I kid you not, that last sentence was word for word. No pressure.
But, two days later, Mr. Murray would also fall, and with him, the hopes of a sportsman to transcend their island roots to dominate the world. And, I have to admit it, this yankee living in this foreign land, found just a moment's pleasure in watching....
On that fateful day when dreams were dashed, a smaller athletic war was being waged, on the green grassy fields of a truly british tradition. As Mr. Murray swung away, making Mr. Roddick, that other Andy, seem a bit worn for wear, british sports commentators found another hope, perhaps a different hero for their hopes and dreams. The commentary was gushing, a verbal blowjob of effusive joy and admiration. And, within seconds after the official announcement that, indeed, the British would fail to reach World Cup glory, it was announced that Mr. Murray now had the hopes of a nation resting on his shoulders. I kid you not, that last sentence was word for word. No pressure.
But, two days later, Mr. Murray would also fall, and with him, the hopes of a sportsman to transcend their island roots to dominate the world. And, I have to admit it, this yankee living in this foreign land, found just a moment's pleasure in watching....