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Fools and their guns
On Wednesday night the national stadium was awash in a sea of gold and green. Thirty thousand people had gathered wearing the national colours in support of the Reggae Boyz as they played in a friendly encounter. The energy was positive, the vibe was nice. It was hard to believe that this was a microcosm of a people considered the most murderous on earth by the author of a story published in the most recent edition of the Everywhere you looked there were smiling faces, parents with children sitting in their laps or next to them, scantily but tastefully clad women creating an energy all on their own, and grateful men taking it all in. Could this really be happening in a country where more than 150 people were murdered in 36 days? It's really hard to believe. But it's true!
It was barely a day before the match that four men were brutally gunned down in Industry Village. Over what, only God knows, but as the police suspect, probably over some trivial issue. A long-time friend sitting next to me at the stadium, someone I have known for more than three decades and who is responsible for the nickname I bear, opined that [COLOR=blue! important][COLOR=blue! important]Jamaica[/color][/color] is nice, save for a few thousand idiots who would ruin it for us all.
Both are right. If you put dangerous weapons in the hands of fools, chaos is the only result and, unfortunately, there are way too many fools running around with guns in their hands. No wonder so many people are dying.
But for the two hours I was inside the stadium Wednesday night that frightening reality was drowned out by the roar of the crowd every time the Boyz mounted an assault on the Costa Rican goal, every time a player showed a flash of brilliance.
The vibe even got sweeter at half-time when the crowd was fired up by a slew of entertainers who reeled off current hits and had the crowd on their feet dancing and waving flags and rags. Who would believe that this was a country where more than 1,500 people had lost their lives under violent circumstances last year?
Certainly not the Costa Ricans who had returned to the field after half-time to the strains of Bounty Killer and others, and a pulsating mass of people totally enjoying the occasion.
They then managed to absorb the best the Boyz could throw at them before scoring against the run of play, temporarily killing the energy that had charged the atmosphere seemingly all night. The setback was only temporary, though, because when Tyrone Marshall's header flew past the Costa Rican goalkeeper and into the net as the match drew to a close, the stadium exploded once more, the wave of energy almost overwhelming to anyone standing within its range.
Then the whistle blew, signalling an end to the match, an end to the related festivities. It was like someone turned out the lights, pulled the plug. The vibe was dead and the only sound was the rustle of [COLOR=blue! important][COLOR=blue! important]shoes[/color][/color], against concrete as people hastened to the exits. The excitement was gone and the real world began to rush back in as the 30,000-strong horde rushed out.
It almost seemed like we were saying that now that the momentary reprieve had passed it was time to leave, eager to return to our murderous ways.
Send comments to shearer39@[COLOR=blue! important][COLOR=blue! important]gmail[/color][/color].com
Both are right. If you put dangerous weapons in the hands of fools, chaos is the only result and, unfortunately, there are way too many fools running around with guns in their hands. No wonder so many people are dying.
But for the two hours I was inside the stadium Wednesday night that frightening reality was drowned out by the roar of the crowd every time the Boyz mounted an assault on the Costa Rican goal, every time a player showed a flash of brilliance.
The vibe even got sweeter at half-time when the crowd was fired up by a slew of entertainers who reeled off current hits and had the crowd on their feet dancing and waving flags and rags. Who would believe that this was a country where more than 1,500 people had lost their lives under violent circumstances last year?
Certainly not the Costa Ricans who had returned to the field after half-time to the strains of Bounty Killer and others, and a pulsating mass of people totally enjoying the occasion.
They then managed to absorb the best the Boyz could throw at them before scoring against the run of play, temporarily killing the energy that had charged the atmosphere seemingly all night. The setback was only temporary, though, because when Tyrone Marshall's header flew past the Costa Rican goalkeeper and into the net as the match drew to a close, the stadium exploded once more, the wave of energy almost overwhelming to anyone standing within its range.
Then the whistle blew, signalling an end to the match, an end to the related festivities. It was like someone turned out the lights, pulled the plug. The vibe was dead and the only sound was the rustle of [COLOR=blue! important][COLOR=blue! important]shoes[/color][/color], against concrete as people hastened to the exits. The excitement was gone and the real world began to rush back in as the 30,000-strong horde rushed out.
It almost seemed like we were saying that now that the momentary reprieve had passed it was time to leave, eager to return to our murderous ways.
Send comments to shearer39@[COLOR=blue! important][COLOR=blue! important]gmail[/color][/color].com