Helen MacGregor

The Unfinished Game

In a frosty world of wonder

A game unfolds

A game of life

Which plays with souls

Souls on the ice start the game

In fire, friendship is born

Souls mix

In love

With the game

Thinking there will be no end

To the game their souls play

Crunch, crunch. It was icy. I loved that sound of my cleats cracking the thin layer of ice, which the night had left, encrusted on the playing field. I drew a deep breath of frosty, cold morning air and watched the puff of cloudy breath I exhaled disappear as I began to run. Running in a hazy morning mist is just about the most exhilarating feeling in the world, made better only if there is a goal in sight, a ball at your feet, and a game to be played. This is the feeling of football, English football. It is a feeling of being able, an “I can” feeling which makes you feel good inside and out. And this particular morning everything was calm, peaceful and ‘at one’ in God’s frosty world.

I ran out on to the pitch in my new football strip, not really caring what I looked like. I was more excited to kick than anything else. I was 15 and my life centered on following a soccer ball from one end of the field to the other. I played before school and after school until it got dark. Even during school as I walked between classes, my friends and I kicked a ball. Like I said, I was 15 but I was not into boys; I never dated and any guys asking me out would eventually give up. Glenn was the exception. He was 15 too, really tall, and I guess pretty cute though what I liked was his skill on the field. We didn’t date. We just played soccer. He wasn’t a star but then again neither was I. We were solid players and we worked well as a team. Since we had known each other, we had been desperate to come up with a signature move like the players we idolized. Eventually we hit on one which, in our 15 year old world, was just as hot as the pros. Glenn would pass to me on a sprint and I would run hard until an opponent moved in. Then I would do the best flip up I could muster, which was definitely less grand than it sounds, and punch the ball as hard as I could in the direction of the goal where Glenn would follow it through past the keeper. Then everyone would hug and, just because a ball had landed at the back of a net, the day would be better. That’s what soccer does to you.

For the love of a game

Hearts will run Minds will race

For the love of a game

Hands will join

In life’s chase

Glenn was a regular kid and I loved to be around him, but most of all he was my best friend, the person who got me. At first our friendship was just about soccer; we would sit around planning strategies, discussing games, and commiserating or celebrating past games. Gradually a real friendship developed. Glenn’s parents were getting divorced and he would spend more and more time out of his house. Sometimes he would talk about how much he hated them fighting. Sometimes he would take me step by step through every argument he overheard. Sometimes he would purposefully talk about everything else just to avoid the issues which made him hurt. I was there for him and soon he was there for me too. He was my escape from the things I had to deal with. He watched with me as my aunt died slowly of cancer and 3 months later as my uncle followed her. He was there when my only other aunt faded and died at the age of 43 before she could see her first grandchild. And he was with me when I got the news that her husband had drowned saving his friend on the first vacation he ever took without my aunt. I talked to Glenn about them all and I know he felt some of my hurt. He would have been a shoulder to cry on if I had cried, but I didn’t. All the sadness and anger I felt inside stayed there and I could not cry, but the energy it aroused flew out of me like shots when I played soccer. Soccer was my escape. It was our escape and we knew it. Things were too big for us, but running out on a field, forgetting about life with only one goal in mind, helped us get by.

Escape what we can And try to forget

Follow our plan

Our hearts aren’t set

Tomorrow will come

Like it or not

And we’ll have to remember

All we forgot

We played soccer in every type of weather. We played until the snow got too deep to move on in the winter. We played in the cold and ice, chilled to the core. Sometimes a ray of sun would follow our passes down the pitch, but mostly we played in the rain. The English are hardy and we would inevitably finish up cold, wet and hungry. That was a feeling I loved, playing hard, running in the cold, chasing a player down a pitch, splashing in the mud, to me that was life. Until the day I began to hate the rain.

We had just finished the last week of our GCSE exams, possibly the worst week in the life of most English kids, and all we wanted to do was get out there in the back field and play. A handful of us ran out onto the field in a classic English rainstorm and eventually a 5-a-side game was set up. We were down 2-0 until we got a chance to use the ever successful signature move, which we did and scored. In a celebratory jest, Glenn hard kicked the ball right over the net, a hedge, and into the next field. As he ran to get it I followed with my head full of the tactics we needed to win. I didn’t see him fall, but when I noticed him on the ground, I laughed. The rain had made the ground muddy, especially around the edges of the field and he had slipped. As I ran up, I saw blood. He was coughing and holding his stomach. He had fallen into the harsh barbed wire which surrounded the field to keep the sheep out. In my head I thought through every first aid class I had ever attended and took off my top shirt for him to hold against his stomach. He told me to get his dad but his dad lived too far away for me to run. I told him to hold the shirt and press as hard as he could to stop the blood. As I ran I yelled to the others who had begun to walk over, telling them to make sure he was ok. And then I ran, like I have never run before or since, towards the closest house. It seemed like I ran forever and when I got to the door of my friend's house I rang, knocked, and yelled all at the same time. I don’t remember exactly what happened but her dad called 999 and then we ran back to the field. I got there first and from a distance it seemed like everything was ok, but as I got close I could see that my shirt was soaked through. Glenn was passing in and out of consciousness and barely breathing but none of us guessed just how badly he was hurt.  I sat beside him a little lost for what to do waiting for the ambulance. Eventually, it came right onto the pitch and spat mud at all of us. The paramedics picked Glenn up and strapped him to the stretcher, giving him an oxygen mask to help his breathing before carrying him into the ambulance. He looked over in my direction as they closed the door and I smiled.

Suddenly

Unexpectedly Without warning

The frost melts In an instant

The rain comes down

In torrents

And mixes with tears

That was the last time I saw his face. He died soon after reaching the hospital; his lung had been punctured in several places. And, just like that, God took one more person from my life. There was a fountain of anger and hurt welling inside of me but still I did not show it. I didn’t cry at Glenn’s memorial service in school. I didn’t cry at his funeral even when I watched his mum collapse and his brother cry. I didn’t cry as I wrote in his remembrance book or when I threw dirt on his coffin deep in the ground. I just lived with it, like I had lived through the other tragedies in my life. I continued as normally as I could. When it rained, I felt empty and I stopped myself from thinking. Rain reminded me of Glenn which in turn reminded me of all the pain he had helped me shoulder. Thinking and feeling hurt too much so I just stopped. My life just happened around me.

Young confused

She’s trying to be brave She needs someone

A hand to hold

But the someone

and the soul and the hand

Have gone

Like the frost

To a place where no rain falls

I was dismally aware that going back to school would mean no soccer or worse, soccer without Glenn. I did not feel ready to contend with either. At last, I signed up to play for the school soccer team at the beginning of the next school term, probably because on an all girls team I could not miss Glenn. I practiced hard everyday with the team, running faster, longer, and harder than ever before. I tried desperately hard to forget and even harder to play and enjoy it like before.

She watches as a ball rolls into a puddle

A tear falls for a friend

And for a game which will never be played

Finally, the first day game came and I ran out onto the pitch under an ominous and cloudy sky. The centers kicked off and the game started. Before the ball even reached me the heavens opened and torrential rain began to fall. Within a few seconds I heard the call to stop the game and I watched as everyone ran off. Standing watching the rain, wanting desperately to play and to enjoy it, something in me just snapped. I ran again, fast, in the opposite direction, telling everyone I was just running off a cramp. I ran to the end of the field and jumped over the wall into the next field where I sat down in the mud. I leaned back against the cold stone wall holding onto my heart and wondering how it could hurt so badly. I wanted calm and simplicity. I wanted to hate and love, forget and remember all at once. I put my head on my knees and clutched them to my chest and finally opened up years of hurt and anger. No one could hear me but the rain, soaking my flimsy football strip. And I cried, like I have never done before or since. I cried for all the people who I had lost. For my aunts and uncles and the huge void I felt without them. I cried through the “why them” all the way to the selfish ‘why me’ stage. Most of all I cried for Glenn, cut down before he could have a chance to achieve anything. I cried for my lost teammate, my classmate, and my best friend. And for a game which would never be finished.

I don’t know how long I shivered and cried but when I was done I sat back against the wall looking up at the sky. As the rain ran down my face, I felt alive again. God had given me peace and I knew things would be all right.

She wonders if the sun will ever shine again

Then through the clouds

A ray

A light

A hope

Suddenly life is again never ending

A new purpose is born

She leaves the ball

Walks slowly away

Ready

To begin a new game