Two more months of highs and lows – ’twas ever thus – with myriad football kits, chance meetings with literary heroes, sad news about design ones, new series aplenty and a return to the eighties in terms of white socks making a comeback, TV (a night of ‘Boys From The Blackstuff‘, plus the wonderful ending (for now) of Stranger Things) music (Kate Bush on repeat) and various unions on strike, including the bin men which, coupled with the heatwaves, meant it felt a little like being in Naples at times.
Fathers’ Day was a non event too, as illness struck, but the family more than made up for that… it’s fair to say it’s been a busy and at times challenging summer so far. Along the way, however, I actually found the time to produce some artwork:
It was just a painted portrait, of a football sticker portraying a transfer that never happened, but it was nice to channel my inner student / Sir Peter Blake for a weekend creating an homage to a hero. Koulibaly then did actually leave Napoli, but not for Norwich, and it was great to feel part of something new; you can see the work online using the hashtag #TheNearlyMen and I’d also recommend you look at series such as Breeders, Il Blocco, Miss Marvel and the heartbreaking but still seminal Roadrunner about Anthony Bourdain, another hero gone too soon and I’ve written enough about him in the past but this offered some fresh insight into the man, his demise and his legacy from those who knew him best.
What’s bizarre is that I also got talking to a fascinating guy at a wedding last month who told me some amazing stories; being a writer himself, he’d worked with some A List celebs and had had a bizarre encounter with Asia Argento, but this isn’t the place to discuss that nor is it the right forum to share my views on a government schools’ inspection agency which paid a visit to work, either…
Talking of people who make things difficult, it wasn’t easy living for over twenty four hours without water due to a burst pipe a few miles away. Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink – or wash with, or flush the toilet etc, and getting ready for a few days away meant this wasn’t exactly ideal preparation for a few days in Wales.
Still, we had a fantastic time with the family in idyllic surroundings reconnecting with nature and a more relaxed pace of life, at odds with the busy daily routines we’ve been accustomed to.
Small breeds farms, lovely old fashioned ghost towns and the real highlight was an amazing lunch in the countryside at a venue I’d recommend anyone in that neck of the woods ever should make a visit to a priority: The Riverside Inn at Aymestry really has it all.
Incredible service, including a waiter who remembered an awkward drinks order perfectly; fantastic food, from a simple-looking menu but with unique offerings such as Herefordshire snails (battered and deep fried, first time I’d had them that way) and an incredible blue cheese ice cream with walnuts. My main of steak sandwich with fennel, apple and truffle fries was pretty damn special, too: overall, perfectly befitting of a very special occasion for a very special person.
Back home, spending time at the library with the wee’uns to do their summer reading challenge led me into the poetry section and reminiscing: eras ending AOTS mean that not only has Elijah joined a footy academy, my barber embarked on a career change, and Big Dunc new challenges – even our local has changed hands – but also I too have changed roles and classrooms. I already miss some of the curriculum content, hence the verse reading of choice… anthologies of Seamus Heaney, Carol Ann Duffy and Simon Armitage, the latter of which reminded me of the word phenomenology and its relevance to so many recent sentiments.
Which brings us to the momentous occasion of taking Elijah to his first match and the tears it brought to all of our eyes.
I never really prepared myself for the enormity of the first game. I remember mine distinctly – Derby County, 29 December 1990, won 2-0 – but as a father, I knew it would be emotional and exciting but nothing like what really happened last Friday.
I couldn’t have chosen a better game. Well, maybe I could, as the first ‘Match for Peace’ was always going to be an emotive occasion against a Kiev team, with Mykolenko as our captain and with several thousand tickets having been distributed to Ukrainian fans, plus the fact it was my first sojourn to Goodison since that eventful night in May when everything was ok in the world for a short while. I even met up with a friend I’d formed a bond with over the last few years despite never actually physically meeting: we got on brilliantly and even found time for a kickabout in Stanley Park before the game, which added to the feeling this was a pivotal event.
Let’s just say he enjoyed the whole thing hugely, and so did I, even when he cried his eyes out at the noise of the crowd cheering the first goal of the evening and we were late getting home. Two days later and another match, a more relaxed affair of Tottenham Hotspur against Yorkshire Spurs in an exhibition match for a very good cause, meeting an inspirational figure from the Eighties…
Fine art, films, food and football. Meeting heroes. Over-elaborate title concepts.
Same as it ever was.