He’s running and he feels the clip on his ankle. He goes down, he’s lying there on his side, feeling the cool grass against his cheek, and beneath the din of the vuvuzelas blaring there’s a cheer that goes on and on, and then he’s surrounded by bodies.
Socks, boots and ankles. All sorts of voices. The pain was only fleeting; it’s gone now, and he’s left with a feeling like he’s floating, like he’s a child again.
Little Fernando, laid prone on the deck. He wonders where his touch has gone. Nothing feels right anymore.
Someone had put his studs in his shin, someone knocked him down. He got nothing, and he made no protest. Then someone clipped his ankle, and he’s not getting up for any Chilean.
I like this one, a moment expanded, and wtf does go throughthere heads when theyrolling about on the floor ?
Probably not a lot? I think Torres had just had enough then – dismal World Cup for him so far.
I passed your blog on to ethan dean richards a friend whos running an official england blog, hopefully he’ll put a link onto it.
Cheers Ray. Hope the Charlton posts don’t put him off.