In 1986 I was so happy to be watching my second World Cup, my first one that I was fully aware of. It was exciting, the late nights in the summer heat. Somewhere in my consciousness I was aware that Mexico had been hit by an earthquake a year earlier. It was only years later that I realized how devastating that 1985 earthquake was. And I'm amazed that the country managed to put on a World Cup. At what cost to it's own citizens who needed help, though?
And today, on the anniversary of that tragic day Mexico gets hit again. Earthquakes, Hurricane Irma and now Maria devastating all those poor people in the Caribbean. It's a cliche but it really has made me think how lucky we are who have never suffered through anything like that. I can sit here and find my solace in football, but they can't. Going to the local stadium or watching on TV is probably not only impossible but also the very last things on their mind. Survival is all they crave now.
My mind does invariably, unfortunately go back to football. When I think of Mexico I'd like to thing of happier times.
1986. Hugo Sanchez. One of the greatest.
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