On June 11th, under massive pressure, three men took penalty kicks.
The match had lasted over two hours. The players were exhausted.
It was down to a penalty shoot-out.
The European Championship at stake.
Then, one after another, Marcus, Jadon, and Bukayo missed.
The championship trophy headed to Italy instead of England.
Those visually devastated young men were reduced to tears. Their teammates and coaches
held them tightly, assuring them it was not their fault.
It was a game.
Bill Shankly famously remarked, “Somebody once said that football was a matter of life or
death. And I said listen, it’s much more important than that.”
But it was still a game.
The next day those young men, as they and the sporting world knew they would be, were
cruelly attacked online with racist abuse.
The response to those repugnant comments was immediate and overwhelming. England
captain Harry Kane stating, “You’re not an England fan and we don’t want you.” Support
flooded in from teammates, governments, the football and sporting communities at large with
massive condemnation of the abuse, and praise for the three. Even Ted Lasso, the epitome of
kindness and belief, appeared wearing a sweatshirt with three names emblazoned across his
body:
JADON & MARCUS & BUKAYO
Racism, like most “-isms” is shameful, likely brought on by deep-seeded issues of pain, fear, and
trauma.
But it needs to end.
I recently read of an illustration regarding critical race theory that showed two children, one tall
and one short trying to peer over a fence to see a game. Equality, it explained, was giving them
each the same size box to stand on, which meant the shorter kid still could not see over the
fence. Equity is giving them each enough boxes to be able to see the field.
We need to make sure that all kids can see the field.
To bring this home.
Those courageous men from England were not looking at the field.
They were on the field.
They’re on the field every day. The training and match field. The fields of injustice and racism.
How do they respond?
Marcus Rashford petitioned his country to overturn a ruling that would have seen school
lunches stopped during pandemic closures, and won, so that food-insecure children, kids who
go hungry every single day, could at least receive one healthy meal a day. (He’s 23 years old)
Jadon Sancho posted about the pain of the loss, with apologies for letting down his team and
country, writing, “Hate will never win.” (21 years old)
Bukayo Sako wrote an eloquent message thanking all the supporters, and finishing with the
words, love always wins. (19 years old)
In that message, he also apologized for not being able to bring the trophy home.
He had no need.
He was on the field, helping take his team to the Euro finals, a journey that raised the spirits
and belief in his country.
Taking a penalty kick in a shootout is something even coaches will say is unfair, the pressure too
high.
I once missed a penalty shot during a penalty shootout in an absolutely meaningless intramural
match, a game that we won to earn the intramural open final. I still feel the shame at that miss
when not a single other person in the entire world is even aware that it happened.
And this was the reason I started writing this piece, to explain to those who believe a penalty
kick is easy, given the ball is only eleven meters from a large goal, and the goalie is not allowed
to move until the ball is kicked, that it is not.
The perfect kick should score every time.
But the goalie is enormous. The world is watching. What if I miss?
The pressure is paralyzing. It can be terrifying to a degree that professional footballers, the best
of the best, have been known to turn down the opportunity to take that kick…and their coach
and teammates understand.
So, for anyone commenting and criticizing, I respond with someone else’s famous words:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or
where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is
actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…his place shall never
be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” –Theodore Roosevelt
For all of you on the field, in the arena, sweating your work, be it football, writing, parenting,
laboring, grinding day after day, whatever, putting you and your work out there for the world to
see…I tip my hat to you, raise a glass, shout hurrah for your inspiration.
Marcus, Bukayo and Jadon are destined for great things on the soccer pitch, and possibly off.
All three happen to play for rival teams to the one I support (Come On You Spurs!), but I wish
them well and will cheer for them (although not much during the NLD).
They shared their pain with the world, and in holding their heads high (deservedly so), and
responding with gratitude, love and strength can teach a lesson in how to get up when you’re
knocked down and how to face your critics.
As Rog and Davo from Men in Blazers sign off, and Marcus, Bukayo and Jadon have epitomized:
Courage.