Those Will Be The Best Memories

12:25 AM


Year: Summer of ‘94
Venue: Grandpa’s Place
Weather: Hot and humid but tension could be smelt from a mile away

It was time, time for glory and time for those who were wearing the yellow jersey to claim that the Cup was theirs but then you had those ones with the Blue jersey who never seemed to give up. They as well wanted to claim that the cup was theirs. Such an intense feeling it was to my parents and family while they watched their favorite team cruise smoothly to the final only for them to meet one of the most defensive teams on Earth. The air was filled with loud cheers for every forward taken and stomps of disappointment at every chance missed. After all, it was the grand finale, it was Brazil the King of kings playing Italy the Idols of Rome. It was enticing and thrilling as every final was supposed to be. But then came the extra time and the penalty shoot outs. The process of being agonized extended to 120 minutes rather than the full 90 we were accustomed to. Everyone was edged to their seat, some were sobbing on how intense it was, and some closed their eyes shut; hoping that it may change the end result.

At the edge of the corner, over my grandfather’s rocking chair was where I sat, adorned in the brightest yellow and green number 11 jersey. A jersey which fit me perfectly, I sat admiring how everyone was moving up and down and doing all kinds of gestures; it made me laugh and crack up so hard at first. But then I got a glimpse of the television; there was so much commotion over there that made me curious. With two cute ponytails hanging at the side of my ears, I had a glance of what was on, it was the same bright yellow and green jersey I had on. I got mesmerized until I noticed that there was one that had a number 11 on his back and I had my eyes pop out from the excitement of it all. It was then and there when I walked up to my father, tugged him telling him “I know I know I know, we are watching football” My father happily carried me and hugged me saying “Yes mommy we are watching football”. I ended up being so happy and clapping with cheerfulness because I managed to win the guess game Dad was playing with me every time a football match was on. “You see that guy who's running so fast?” he asked. “That’s his shirt that you are wearing” he said as he started shouting at a missed chance of scoring. “Oh oh I know, he's Romario” I told him because I always remembered him telling me so.

It was time for the moment of truth; the penalty shoot outs. The climax and closing moments of an event that is awaited for every four years, it was here and now where history would be sealed and the winner would take it all. Roberto Baggio came forward, with his ponytail that looked like the ones I had at both sides of my head, to seal it for the Blue jerseys. The tension was felt and everyone at home was praying that he misses and avoids hitting the goal. Seconds later, all my ears got flooded with were sounds and screams of victory. He missed and their wish came true. The team that my parents and family were rooting for won..!! And those yellow and green jerseys went into history with their 4th golden trophy.

The jersey that I wore as a seven year old still lingers to my memory. It still smells of that tension and victory that it once was associated with. And I still have it with me in my closet.  After all, it was the start of it all, the start of my obsession with something called Futbol Mundial. Since it’s football season I’d be updating my fondest memories of the sport to my scribbling collection. It has made me as to who I am today, not only competitive but capable of taking defeat with a brave sports spirit. So watch out..!! I’m going to be updating frequently inshallah :)

Until then enjoy ..!!


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1 Comments

  1. cute memories xD looking forward to see more of sport spirit of urs ;)

    i was 6 then in this world cup, couldn't remember well, just laugh at roberto baggio's ponytails and was shocked as he was the best italain player then to lose the penalty.

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