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Date of publication: Saturday 2 February 2019 7h21
We are used to observing the minute-of-match silences at football matches these days, but even so, there are some that you can never prepare: rare occasions where the silence has less of the air of 39, a symbolic obligation and more of a faithful reflection of the void felt by everyone present.
I was present at Elland Road for the first game after the death of Gary Speed in 2011, and it was an experience I will never forget. Speed was a product aimed at young people in Leeds and was part of a legendary midfielder who had helped them win an unlikely league title in 1992. He was truly one of theirs and the sudden nature and shocking to his death at only 42 years old was affected. Everybody. A community can not possibly prepare for such a tragic loss. It is impossible to describe what it means to be in a stage filled with tens of thousands of people whose lives have been touched and whose memories have been written by a tragically lost hero.
It was different, but no less tragic and no less deeply felt, even though this time, I was watching at home on television. Emiliano Sala has never had the opportunity to play a game for Cardiff City. This match against Bournemouth should have been his first home match; his name should have filled the air like their new record of 15 million pounds. Aged 28, he had scored 12 goals in 19 league games for the French club Nantes, and the fans hoped he would help ensure a first consecutive season in the Premier League. Nobody could have imagined that the first time that we would sing "Emiliano Sala" would ring around the Cardiff City Stadium, it would be in memorial.
Daffodils brought to the memory of Sala and pilot David Ibbotson, the pale blue and white mosaic representing Argentina created by the crowd before the kickoff, and the songs that erupted when the stopwatch rang for 28 minutes were not a homage to the club's hero because Sala never had the chance to become one; but rather an act of pure humanity, a recognition of the lost potential and things that can no longer be today.
First and foremost, we will have thought of the families of Sala and Ibbotson, who still have trouble understanding what happened to the missing plane and raised over £ 280,000 for continue research, which could resume Sunday. But many badistants and spectators at home will also have reflected on what people in our own lives mean for us: not just footballers, but loved ones, family members and friends. After all, this has happened to someone who has the world at his feet and what should have been one of the most exciting days of his life: we are none of us in the shelter of tragedy.
What a pity we can not continue this realization in everything we do. Tomorrow, someone will put us in a queue, or a referee will make a bad decision, or a train will fail at the hour, and we will feel angry and upset, even angry at our fellowmen . It is only the way of things; but we can always try to avoid letting that dominate our lives.
Because we will also celebrate the goals, as did the Cardiff crowd with Bobby Reid's double; and we will laugh with friends and tell people that we love them and hear those words being told to us. And if we do not do it tomorrow, there will hopefully be other days. But try not to wait. Try not to badume. Some voids may never close completely, but you can still do something to help you feel better today than yesterday. If we can all remember to treat ourselves with the kind of humanity that the people of Cardiff have shown in their homage to Sala, this mission will be much easier for all of us.
Steven Poulet is on Twitter
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