Why I Love Football Vol. 1 – Last Gasp Goals

Hi Guys, I’m here with my first post. I’m going to be doing a weekly post on the reasons why I love the beautiful game so much. This week I will be starting, ironically, with last gasp goals.

It doesn’t matter how they are scored, whether it’s a tap in like Aaron Lennon in last seasons dramatic 4-4 in the North London Derby and Ole Gunnar Solksjaer winning the treble at the Camp Nou, or beautifully crafted like Beckham lighting up Old Trafford once again to send England to the 2002 World Cup and Gerrard smashing home against Olympiakos in the 86th minute, giving them the 2-goal lead they needed to progress past the group stage of the 2004 Champion’s League, a competition they would go on to win.

A late goal is what’s beautiful about football, and highlights how quickly a game can change. You just drift away from the real world for that split second and find yourself in a state of ecstacy with no control over your actions. Andy Gray’s commentary during the Gerrard goal illustrates that so beautifully.

There aren’t many moments that give me goosebumps 8 years on after countless times of watching, but Beckham v Greece is one of them. It was almost poetic, and there was only ever one person who was going to carry us through to the World Cup Finals. It was the turning point in his career after the controversy of the 1998 World Cup, and had that goal not gone in, how different could David Beckham’s career have turned out.

So never give up hope, and never leave a game early. No amount of traffic can ruin that perfect moment.

Last gasp goals are why we all love football.

4 thoughts on “Why I Love Football Vol. 1 – Last Gasp Goals”

  1. I was in the Stretford End at Old Trafford last season for the incredible comeback against Aston Villa. Ronaldo drew United level in the 80th minute and Sir Alex had brought in a relatively unknown Italian kid in Federico Macheda. He scored a magnificent stunner deep into extra time(I know…shocker) to send us Mancs into a frenzy. We celebrated long into the Northwestern night. We killed a bottle of Paddy’s and quite a few Joseph Holt’s Bitters to top the night off. One of the best matches I’ve ever seen.

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