Due to his wife and other terrible marital problems, Robert Owen Edwards sorrowfully announced his retirement unexpectedly, and all his team players broke down in tears, but…

Due to his wife and other terrible marital problems, Robert Owen Edwards sorrowfully announced his retirement unexpectedly, and all his team players broke down in tears, but…

All of Robert Owen Edwards‘ teammates sobbed as he abruptly announced his retirement, citing his wife and other horrible marital issues.

My mother got me a flat cap from Littlewoods in the Arndale when I was five years old. Near the Flamingoes, there was a small, makeshift area near the door that featured sepia-colored Luton Town merchandise. The team had just defeated Arsenal to win the Littlewoods Cup at Wembley.

I spent my pocket money on basketball vests from Stateside in the market to go with my bad, bad hair or stink bombs from Situl to dump at the bus station before returning to Barton as the years passed. I bought a lot of old junk from the Arndale

enormous jeans. However, by my early adolescence, the Luton Town clobber had virtually vanished. There were very few remnants of the football team in its own town center, even before its recent decline into non-league football.

Cut to Sunday, 25 years later.

Weeping. Snotty, ugly tears. Salutations to both new and old acquaintances, such as military veterans. glazed incredulity. Hey guys, it was just the pre-game party, right? (L.A.D.S.)

On Saturday, May 27, 2023, at Wembley Stadium, there was an outpouring of emotion unlike anything I have ever seen or will ever see again. As many people were falling where they were standing as were flinging limbs. The moments had a hint of post-traumatic stress without going into too much detail.

Men, women, and children can be found everywhere Kids cried aloud and clung to one another. Luton gives long, extended hugs. placing hands on heads. Depleted bliss.

The trip home and the days that followed were equally dramatic. As I write this, having just listened to Simon Pitts, a longtime Luton commentator from the conference days when only community radio station Diverse FM carried the games, break down at the final penalty, it seems as though there is no end in sight. Every interaction, message, tweet, video, or song has the potential to send us spiraling out of control.

The stadium surrounding us blurred into soft focus after the game. The main figures from the past returned on the big screen, looking a little older but still beaming warmly from above like fucking Mufasa. However, please, Mick. The throbbing, try-hard pre-match atmosphere was replaced by Eric and Ernie, who eased the headache of an away day across the PA system. Bring the sun to me. Everything was only a dream. I read the fanzine Mad as a Hatter once.

Where can you even start when trying to make sense of a tale that stretches the boundaries of what used to be possible?

Gurney, or perhaps point deductions, would be a good place to start. or being demoted the night before the Premier League. like the suggested relocation to Milton Keynes. Or any other of the incessant soap dramas that seem to afflict Bedfordshire’s football family’s black sheep more frequently than the others. However, the most recent chapter in the greatest football tale ever written needs to start with that man, John Still.