It's been six years since I discovered this beautiful sport. What was once enduring passion had dwindled into something like...passive interest. And then, London happened. Saturday morning. I'm sitting in the Marriott, quietly eating my breakfast. I casually look towards the door--and I see them. That training kits, the height, the build, the hairstyle, the fact that they travel in packs. Footballers. And I recognize one of them immediately. Martin Kelly. Former Liverpool player. My friend says I spent the rest of breakfast just losing it. Gawking at them and trying to work up the courage to ask for a picture. It was amazing. Of course, being the creeper that I am, I ended up following them into a shopping mall. And then a Tesco's. And I hesitated as we got closer, but then Martin (dear Martin) turned our way and smiled, and that was enough. I asked for a quick picture and they were so amazingly polite. It's nearly three days later and I am still giddy. I miss it sometimes. I've come to accept that my love for the game will never be as strong as it was 5-6 years ago. Back when the game became my life, quite literally, my raison d'etre. So to come here, and to be pulled back into this world, in the best way possible, well, there are no words. To Martin and to Joel (Ward), thank you for helping reignite this fan's love for the beautiful game.
