Lucas Leiva’s journey from a boy to a man coincided with many Liverpool fans’. Here’s one writing his farewell and thanks fit for a man in the arena.
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; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
[Excerpt from the speech “Citizenship In A Republic” delivered at Sorbonne, Paris, France, 23 April, 1910]
Not so long ago, in a far away land of tea and biscuits, on an auspicious night graced by the presence of around forty thousand commoners, two factions known for their sporting credibility faced each other on a chalk marked 67m x 103m pitch to have the ultimate showdown. The North Westerners donning their red battle dress, fresh from suffering a remarkable loss at the hands of their South Eastern opponents, arrived to the city of London in the hope of redemption without their battle hero, Colonel Steven from the House Liverpool. It was the grandest of occasions, promising to be an utmost spectacle of a clash of the titans. Meanwhile, millions of miles away from the battleground, an eleven-year-old boy hailing from a different realm had all of his concentration on the outcome of such a monumental event. Evidently, the stakes were high when it involves the concern of a hopeful child who recently had found a place for himself amidst the heroes of the North West.