The Crescent Heights Cowboys lost their first game this season tonight, in the City final, by one point. At a minute twenty five remaining, after a stunning recovery in the last moments from being two touchdowns behind, they went for the two point convert, a gamble that was absolutely right based on probability, strategy and history, but that went wrong in the event. So they lost 29:30.
I have never seen so many 16 & 17 year old men crying, unashamedly, and in front of their enemies. And they were men, they were unafraid to clasp hands at the start of the game, in front of all, which they did in a great chain; and the love between them was palpable, even in ruin: they were unafraid to hold hands at the end too, as they were forced to stand there in the middle of the field and watch their opponents receive the cup not 10 yards away from them.
No fear, those boys, no fear at all.
They were simply the best football team I have ever seen, in terms of heart, in terms of closeness between very different people, in terms of the ideal of how a team should be and work.
I am so proud of them, all of them.
Real mensch, all.