| Stay at home |
May. 29th, 2012|05:21 am |
We were the last to leave the VEF changing room, he and I - my old bones stiffening after the bruising Saturday evening amateur football league match. He had the trickiest feet of anyone I had played with or against: dazzling black shins, a shy grin and he was gone - and we would usually just laugh to ourselves and wonder what he was doing playing in the same team as us. Well, later he would take off (with his Latvian wife and kid) to play low-level professional football wherever he could find it.
I left the changing room, and made my way through the following game's spectators on the balcony - down the fire escape steps into the dark December night and waited by the bus stop.
"Hey mon ami!" said a voice from the dark alleyway behind me. And out he came, my Cameroon friend, to wait for a bus home with me under the city's streetlights.
Jā - domāju par viņu, kad redzēju šo. |
|