Inspired by a poster I saw about the rise in domestic abuse during the World Cup.
“Goal!” they scream on the TV.
You hold your breath.
Which side is it?
You wait, gripping hold of the fridge door.
Commentators whoop wildly
as celebrations careen through the land.
You breathe again.
You pull out two more beers,
returning to the sofa
where cold pizza congeals between you.
You make a comment,
trying to make a connection,
wanting to feel part of the moment.
You wish you hadn’t bothered.
As goalkeepers leap left,
you dodge right,
too late to make a save.
7/4/2026
The Words That Got to Me
As goalkeepers leap left, you dodge right, too late to make a save. *Yep. Exactly right.
I used to be married to a soccer player (American, but he was a Sabra - Israeli born and raised until age thirteen), and although he never physically abused me, his days and days of silence after a soccer loss (whether his World Cup team or his own local team that he played on or the team he coached...) was quite painful. You captured the bleakness of it all perfectly. xoxo
7/6/2026
Yes, I was shocked to read about the statistics.
7/4/2026
Rachel, I cannot image what you are going through. I am so afraid of what's happening here. Our Pres. is celebrating America and the Dems absolutely refuse to celebrate strictly because they hate him. Socialism is spreading - stupid people who can't appreciate the freedom and blessings we have. They riot, the press lies to the public, influencing voters, Judges who are bought vote against the innocent. My flag is flying proudly at my house everyday, and I pray that God will help us save this land. Your poem is a desperate plea. I hope the patriotic British will somehow rise up and take your country back. My heartfelt thoughts are with you.