They were sitting on a dark underground tavern in Westminster, drinking the most bitter of the local Pale Ales while talking about a failed marriage. The depressive atmosphere, mixed with the smell of sweat, alcohol and cigars had become an unbearable combination even for the captain of The Red Army, one of the worst hooligan firms in London.
The miserable man had just been dumped by his wife, which was having an affair with the neighbor. Simon knew Alan for almost 40 years, so it was more than OK for him to cry in front of his oldest friend and he was about to. When, out of nowhere, trying to bury his feelings deep down inside, like any good English man, and desperately attempting to get his mind of the repulsive happening, he asks his best friend:
- I miss soccer. It has been such a long time since we don’t play it. By the way, how was Arsenal’s match yesterday?
Alan gets up instantly, leaving his beer unfinished at the counter. Without saying a word, he goes towards the door, hurting the wooden floor with angry strides. When reaching for the knob, he turns around, looks at his long time friend with profound disappointment and, right before going out, says:
- Soccer? For bloody sake, Simon! The name of the game is football.
This was Alan Uglow, an English abstract painter that lived by rules of his favorite sport. His work, filled with geometrical fields bordered by lines, reflected his passion for the game. With 69 years of age, he died of lung cancer in Manhattan, January 20th.
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