You would think something as massive as Gerrard leaving Liverpool, would touch me enough for me to share my sentiments here. I felt everything. The sadness, the doom, the loss.
I shed a tear and then thought, 17 seasons that came to a stoking (is that a word?) 6-1 bust. Story of his career. Should I be writing all that down? No. And then I did. But only to remind myself why I didn't.
The consequence of having information at our fingertips has made every experience so fleeting. If I were at Anfield (or insert anything else here from celebrating birthdays to morbidly enough, the death of a pet) on matchday, I'd be Instagram-ming and Snapchat-ting the living daylights out of it.
I live behind and through the lens of my phone. Which just tells me I should really spend tons of money buying the best damn piece of tech since I spend 98.99% of my days on it. The smart people just call it benefit cost ratio. Or something along those lines.
So maybe Manchester City can justify their benefit-cost ratio when they get Sterling. Does anyone else thinks it's ironic his name is relative to the currency? Fleeting again. But who can blame him for wanting to go. Every player has a right to be rash in the ruthless world of football. Only a select few make it to the top and win titles. Time isn't a luxury for such a short lived career with the possibility of injury cutting it even shorter.
You can be the loyal Gerrard and win nothing but hearts. Or you can be a Sterling/Suarez and win in life. If work is your life.
I've always liked the number 31 over 8.