| | Quote of The Week: Hay más tiempo que vida (There is more time than life)
- NathanVersus
It's been a funny week.
Well, not exactly funny. More like heart-wrenchingly eventful.
Firstly, I found out some really disturbing stuff about a good friend of mine. I'd never mention names or implicate anyone, but what I heard involved sexual assult... made worse by the fact that the perpertrator of this crime is also one of my closest friends, whom I've known for many years more. Truly sickening, but that just set me up for the next few days.
Last Thursday, news reached me of the passing of my former teacher and deputy headmistress, Mrs Nelson-Woods. Mrs Nelson-Woods taught me Biology for just over a year before breast cancer took hold of her, and she struggled on bravely for another year and a half before succumbing. I didn't know her half as well as I would have liked, but I always regarded her as an excellent teacher and disciplinarian, which earned her respect, fear (and hatred) among certain circles within the student body, as well as love. She was at Calday for over 30 years, and despite what anyone said, I know she always put the students first, and my lasting image of her will be of a still tough if uncharacteristically greying woman in her final few months, seemingly energetic and ruthless as ever as she instructed me to tuck my shirt as I got off the bus. That, and her ever-changing hairstyles throughout the years I was at Calday.
On Saturday, things began to improve for me as British sport enjoyed a red letter day. The English football team defeated ancient rivals Argentina, ranked the second best team in the world, in the best friendly match I have ever had the pleasure of watching. England also beat old enemies Australia in the rugby union, and in rugby league Great Britain overcame the New Zealand All-Blacks. Meanwhile, Andrew Flintoff bowled the hell out of Pakistan in the cricket.
Then, I was mentally struck down again. Late last night, while I was in the middle of a history essay, I discovered that Eddie Guerrero, the professional wrestler and one of my few inspirations, had passed away aged 38. The heart that had gifted him the charisma and courage to go out nearly every night and entertain had given up on him as he brushed his teeth in a hotel room, a week before many speculated that he was booked to win the WWE Championship.
This, unlike my teacher's death, was completely shocking and unexpected. Eddie had overcome his prescription drug problems four years ago and had been apparently teetotal ever since. I admit to my eyes swelling with tears as I read the news on WWE.Com, and was immediately moved to write a tribute to the great man, which can be read on www.ThePageofLegend.tk. He leaves behind a wife and three children, with whom my prayers and condolences reside, and one hell of a legacy.
I feel, for the first time in a while, emotionally drained. Too much so to think of an effective ending for this commentary. |
