The game you can’t forget
It was the 2022 World Cup final, an evening I will never forget. I always admired Messi, for me he is the greatest of all, but I also admired Ronaldo.
Shay, on the other hand, admired Ronaldo and Real Madrid, but also loved Messi.
It was his clear preference, our arguments about who was the best at football were part of our routine, but on that evening, when Ronaldo wasn’t playing, none of that mattered.It was a moment for both of us. A special moment.
Shay insisted that we watch the game together, at home, just the two of us. “It’s the final, Dad. You don’t watch a game like this with friends. We’re watching it together!” he said.
Although in all the earlier stages I had hosted friends or stayed with them, this time I listened to him. I wanted our special time together.
The game itself was unforgettable. Messi gave a career-defining performance, and I couldn’t sit still from the tension.
Shay, for his part, laughed at me for not stopping talking about Messi, and every time I got up from the couch in excitement, he would throw in a witty comment about how absorbed I was.
But I know he was also deeply immersed, feeling the full power of the moment.
It was that moment when we connected, two different worlds of football, that became One perfect moment of father and son.
It wasn’t just a game. It was an experience of connection, of quality time, of a moment when the whole world stayed outside, and only we were inside, watching together.
That evening, I felt how the game became a shared lesson, not just about football, but about what is truly important in life –To look after each other, to listen, and to experience the moment.
I remember how the house filled with his energy. His voice, his wit, the way he treated every moment as if it were part of something bigger.
That match wasn’t just a World Cup final, it was the final of a chapter in life – a chapter in which I was a father who savored small and big moments with his son.
Since then, the house hasn’t been the same. Sometimes, when I walk through the living room, I think I can still hear his laughter, his cries when he was satisfied with a good game. But that’s just a memory.
Shay always told me: ‘Dad, look at life like a game – always give it the all of you, but also know how to have fun.‘ This sentence has become my motto ever since.
That game taught me another thing –The moments we share with our loved ones are more than any victory or loss. They are life itself!
Since that evening, I haven’t had much chances to host another game in this house. Shay fell in the war, and the house is not the same without him. It became too quiet, empty.
This house has been quiet ever since. Too quiet. But the memory of that evening never leaves me. It’s not just the game. It’s what it symbolized. Shay. His laughter. His ability to turn simple moments into great ones, and great ones into simple ones.
My Shay, thank you for every magical moment. You will always remain in my heart, in every final, in every game, and in every moment of longing.
