They’d weathered the racism, held together by a deep passion until she died three years ago, a real lady until the end. And she’d made him more Ja...aican than English in many ways, except for football, of course. We settled down and watched a World Cup group game. It was a dead rubber, both teams had failed to qualify for the next stage and they were merely playing for pride. Casting off the shackles they played with abandoned attacking verve. My dad watched, eyes dancing at the audacity of the. Something behind their piercing eyes betrayed an awareness of insidious irrelevance. Of a shift. From getting by on raw sexual magnetism towards honing wiles. That night he saw and grasped but never fully comprehended until his own 30s. Later among his age-set females lingering and loss clarified themselves in his male outlook. The man of the hour demeaned the process feting him. Abercrombie wondered how many of his temporary admirers heard honesty and courage in the author’s contrariness,. More

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