2012 London Olympics. Epilogue
Wednesday 15th August 2012
Afternoon people.
Re these posts/blogs things…
May I take this opportunity to say
thank you to all the people who sent me positive feedback whether it be via E
Mails, texts or phone calls and a special set of thanks to all the people had
the balls to start their E Mails with, “You don’t know me but…”.
You’ve seen the photos, you know what I
look like, if you see me around and about RUN! HA! HA! HA! Come up and say
hello. Beers are on me… erm… no forget that the beers are on you…
Before I finally bid you all farewell.
I hope I haven’t wasted too much of your time (well you didn’t have to read
them… who’s the fool?). I hope my words have made you smile.
Here is a small visit around my head.
Slippery things these dreams. Sometimes
the tighter you try to hold them the easier they escape your grasp. You have to
hold them gently. Caress them. Love them. For all of the faults and problems
that they bring your way. They are your dreams and sometimes it is only you
that can understand and believe in them.
In the seven years since London was awarded
the 2012 Olympics there were times when I’ve lost sight of the dream. There
were times when I wondered was it all worth it. Were the sacrifices worth it?
The times I’ve cried like a school girl. The times “I’ve poured my brain into a
can”… Chemical supports that got me through those long times of self-loathing
for all the people I’m hurting and took me to the bring brink of addiction.
Moving 200 miles further away from my
daughter. Football, season tickets handed back. Football in general, walked away
from and THOSE cup games and relegation battles that I could now only read
about in the press. Concerts that now happened without me being there.
Relationships that I calmly and very coldly walked away from – I’m truly sorry
for the heart ache – I just had to be somewhere else – I’m sorry.
That first Christmas when it was just
me. In an empty flat. When I thought I’d completely stuffed it up. When I had
literally only pennies in my bank account. When I ended up in Waltham Abbey on
Boxing Day with a fading dream and a Maiden shirt, literally just me in an
empty Abbey, a pilgrim, a lost traveller, searching for the path, for sanctuary
– no pun intended - someone with a faith, a quest, a light to follow, chasing
that bright star in the sky.
Does this make sense? I’ve kind of felt
like the NASA space probe “Voyager” that was launched in 1977 to have a close
look at Jupiter and Saturn before moving off into… whatever she finds in her
path. Somewhere in the far away void of the dark sky was a little pin prick of
light. Brightly shining. Calling. Calling. Calling. A distance that’s so great
that even after years of travelling the brightly shining light seemed to be no
closer. Then still no closer and then STILL no closer, until one day there is a
shape, a form, something other than a pin prick of light. Then slowly, slowly
that shape and form becomes more detailed and then before you know it…
WHOOSH!... FFFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!! And the whole purpose of the journey
screams, thunders by, so quickly, that you are left spun around facing the
wrong way to the direction of your travel as the object you went to look at is
already starting to fade away. Into time. Into space. Growing ever distant but
still brightly shining…
To all the people that I let down so
badly. I’m sorry. It was my dream. I hope that one day you understand. I hope
that one day you too have a dream and I can pay back some of the debt I owe
you. When you need me just shout.
Can someone please stop the tears.
Is this my penance?
Farewell and may your God go with you.
Peace and Love
Peace and Love
Noggin xx
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