Wonderwall

My daughter is the biggest football fan in our home. 

She’s the real tears-for-losses and big-joy-for-victory type of fan. Throughout this 2026 World Cup, she has watched as many games as possible, given the time difference, and where she has missed them, she has watched highlights /replays first thing in the morning before school. On some evenings after school, she has had a few phone call banters with my dad, her grandfather, whose 40-year career as a broadcast journalist included sports commentary. 

“No, grandpa, that was a clear foul. Or 

“That red card was so unnecessary. “

Or, patiently explaining Gen Alpha slang about Henderson aura farming only to end up in surgery after falling over a stadium ad.

If you know her, you will know how shattered she was for England at the Euros final in 2021, how joyous she was when the Super Falcons won the Women’s Africa Cup of Nations for a record tenth time in 2025, and how undoubtedly conflicted she was when her country of birth and her country by heritage clashed during the FIFA Women’s World Cup in 2023

She is an ardent Messi supporter, the jersey-collector type. But yesterday, of course, she was rooting for her country against Argentina. 

It started with quiet confidence and growing hope as the game progressed and Gordon scored. But as England retreated towards the end of the game and the unravelling started, it was downhill from there. TEARS. TEARS. TEARS

“And that’s it”, she said, so dejectedly when Argentina’s second goal went in.

This morning, when she woke up, I asked how she was feeling. “Still a bit annoyed,” she said, “my brain won’t stop buzzing because we could have won.” 

I was going to ask next what lesson she was taking away from the loss, but even before I did, she added with a little spritely energy, “We will go again.”

Now, this is not a new saying. As a matter of fact, it is very cliché to tell someone to go again after defeat, and yet it touched me so much, I nearly shed a tear. As a writer, I know firsthand how much courage it takes to go again. Having received several high-stakes rejection emails, all of which somehow allude to a – good but not good enough or, nearly there but not quite kind of score card, it is depressing. The writing journey, as with many other sporting or creative endeavours, can feel very awful when it doesn’t go one’s way.

But, despite defeat, there is really nothing else to do but to learn lessons. To say – what do I need to do to survive this stage, what mentality do I need to possess to play at this level that has just ejected me, and then with spirit and grace under pressure, go again. 

There is a verse in the Bible that carries pivotal weight for me, which is Psalm 126: 5-6. 

“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.”

Depending on the situation, this verse comforts or encourages me, as my child’s response has today. To go again, even with tears in my eyes, to write that proposal again, or apply to that fellowship or scholarship again, to write again and again even after awful defeat and several no’s. To have the composure, sang-froid, if you may, to learn lessons, even while weeping. Hopefully, in England’s case – that they can break through and own the mentality of a finalist. 

It was hard to watch England lose, but watching the next generation be inspired even in defeat is a salve. And as Jude Bellingham said last night, “the more beautiful the journey, the more heartbreaking the end.” 

To function at the highest level of whatever our endeavour is comes with the acceptance that there is going to be crushing defeat along the way.  I’m not sure that even as an adult, I am fully able to function in that mentality just yet. I am trying my best. But what joyous hope that the next generation can.