I know I’m not the only one still screaming about this, but I’ve just gotta screaming about this some more.
Dean. Made Cas. A fucking mixtape.
Like, I just wanna make SURE that you younger folks that were raised during the digital age are fully understanding this (and I apologize if that sounds like I’m talking down to you I just need to make SURE you understand).
Dean made Cas a MIXTAPE.
Not a mix CD. Not a custom playlist.
No. He made an actual MIXTAPE.
He took the time to sit there and record each individual song. You hit record, press play on the source, sit there, and listen while it records onto the tape. Then the song ends, and you hit “pause,” and repeat. You have to make sure the tape doesn’t run out in the middle of a song. You have to get the timing right so there’s not too much blank space on one side of the tape.
And it’s like one of the biggest fucking signs of a crush ever, because then you know someone bothered to put craft and time into it just for YOU.
You know, people love to say that opposites attract. And maybe that’s why I tried so hard to make us work. The girl who measures two teaspoons of sugar to put in her tea and the boy with calloused palms, climbing every mountain he can because he likes the way the stars look when nothing is in their way. Frothy milk and adrenaline. We looked like idiots together. You at my charity dinners in a poorly tailored sport coat. Five o'clock shadow. Bad jokes. And me scaling the rock climbing wall with slippery hands. Two feet above ground. A loose cotton dress. But laughing. Both of us always laughing. At me and you and this stupid world for working in a way that let the two of us need each other so desperately. Opposites. You’re damn right they attract.
But attraction and commitment were never the same thing. Maybe you always knew that. And that’s why you laughed. Because you knew that one day, your girl would stand on Everest. Scream to the stars. Drink her coffee black. But me, I’m still learning. Learning as you tell we want different things. Learning as you drop off every piece of myself I’ve left at your place, nothing folded, the toothbrush tangled with hairs. Learning as I sit here writing about the boy who bounced from cliff tops to see the stars and the girl whose feet never left the ground, whose eyes only ever knew how to watch him walk into clouds and disappear altogether.
Ronnie Moran (28th February 1934 - 22nd March 2017)
Anfield legend Ronnie Moran sadly passed away in the small hours of this morning, aged 83.
The player, captain, coach, mentor, twice assistant-manager and Boot Room original lived much of his life in a comfortable bungalow in Crosby.
In the mind’s eye of Liverpool fans from all over the world however, Moran’s spiritual home was a claustrophobic corner of Anfield known as the Boot Room, where three decades of unprecedented footballing success were plotted by some of the sharpest football minds of the time.
He’s now back in the Boot Room with Bill Shankly.
A real football man, a credit to Liverpool Football Club and a true gentleman.
Wishing all his family and friends well at this sad time.