Success that follows a lack of success is often labelled a redemption story. But in the churn of sports results, that isn’t a narrative, it’s a sequence
Among the overblown themes of sports writing, through all its stained and dog-eared lexica, the one that comes up most is surely redemption. Across the dirt of suburban outfields and the paint of city lanes, redemption and the seeking of it. Blessed is its pursuit. Something to be striven for, to be craved, to be grasped, to be squandered. Teams, athletes, entire nations take their turns to be redeemed. Someone somewhere is always hovering on its holy cusp. Some recidivists make it a cycle, a new fall before each corresponding lift, the trip through a spiritual carwash. Each time a crowd will assemble, dancing with the idea that now things could be different. The desire to see someone rise is unquenchable. We are a world of sporting sinners endlessly swimming towards the light.
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