always face forward

It was one of the greatest sporting finals ever. I was rooting for the eventual loser but that doesn’t cloud my judgement that it was one of the finest tennis matches of all time. The thing was, however, that I found it extremely difficult to enjoy – The stakes were so high for both players and I got so caught up in the remarkable come back that Roger Federer pulled off before finally succumbing to the power of Rafael Nadal that I stopped enjoying it someway through the fifth set. I think I may also have stopped breathing around that point.

Two days later I’m breathing again and the pain of disappointment has gone for me. I have no idea if it’s just me but that seems to be the way it often goes. I build my hopes up and the anticipation intoxicates me – then it all goes wrong and the pain is unbearable.

For a couple of days anyway – after that I get over it and look forward to the next time.

This is a fortunate thing indeed, for I feel disappointment often. Disappointment that my football team haven’t won anything in my lifetime; that my, once all conquering, rugby team have been mediocre for years; that my hockey team have forgotten how to spell ‘the play-offs’ never mind ‘the stanley cup.’ Yup, disappointment is a frequent guest at chez Mr C.

It works both ways. There is a soccer team I despise with a passion. I hate Manchester United more than I love Newcastle United – and that’s a lot. There is one major problem with hating Man Utd. They win everything. Therefore on an annual basis I have months of hoping that someone, anyone, will knock them off their perch only for them to win through again. It hurts. It hurts even more that, in Northern Ireland, I am surrounded by Man Utd fans who love nothing more than gloating and that I, in my little black and white soccer shirt, am an ideal target for gloatation. How they love to remind me that my team has a trophy shelf covered in dust while theirs has a trophy room filled with glittering bits of metal.

Luckily a few days after the season ends life has moved on and we are all looking forward to the next season when I will be hoping and praying that Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool, Stoke City – anybody – will win the lot and clear out that trophy room at Old Trafford.

The past is over rated – we all know it even if we don’t accept it consciously. I know there will be people snorting as they read this but deep down they know I’m right. Brush aside all the old adages about being destined to repeat our mistakes, how we can’t know where we’re going if we don’t know from whence we came, and you will see I speak the truth.

That is surely a comfort to Mr Obama. He may have just spent the last few months cat fighting with Ms Clinton but now he can forget all about it and wipe the slate clean for a whole new battle. He is nowhere near as damaged as the right-wing press love to suggest. If anything he can learn from the fight. Duck and dodge Barack, duck and dodge.

It may well be important to know about the past but in the league table of import nothing that has come before can compete with the immediateness of the present nor the anticipation of the future. Why waste time worrying about what happened yesterday when you could be putting all of that emotional energy into worry about what is going to happen tomorrow.

Take me for example. I could be concerned that I didn’t perform as well as I could have in last year’s production. Instead I’ve decided to worry that, for various reasons, I have missed all but two rehearsals for a play I will be performing in a couple of weeks.

What am I doing typing this!!!