So, here's a hunch.
Owing to a unique pile-up of circumstances – which will never again occur in his lifetime – I think the stage is set for Chelsea midfield maestro Frank Lampard to have one of the greatest stretches of his career.
In the next three games, the Blues have a chance to seal two huge and significant deals – the English Premier League title and the UEFA Champions League. Lampard, still battling back from the horrendous number of clear, open shots he didn't score on for England in that disappointing World Cup in Germany, has a golden chance to step up and silence his critics once and for all.
And, as always, there's one other thing. Lampard is deep in grief. His mother passed away last week. And as I watched him step bravely into the fray against Liverpool in the UCL semis on Wednesday, I saw something significant.
Mercifully, I've had very few periods of intense grief in my life. I'll spare you the details, but there was one truly horrific one a few years back. My editors told me not to worry, to just quit writing for a while and do whatever I had to do to get myself and my loved ones through it.
When the normal time to write came around, something interesting happened. I desperately wanted to file a story. So I did, and my editors were shocked. I heard myself tell them, down the phone, “I just needed to do something normal.”
I didn't miss a deadline through that entire awful time. Every column was a brief break from the darkness, a reminder that there would somehow, some day, be better, happier days.
Sports columns were utterly trivial compared to what we all were going through, but that little fleeting touch of normalcy made a very big difference.
When Liverpool got called for that penalty in extra time, and Lampard grabbed the ball and marched it to the spot, I saw something unmistakable in his eyes. There's not a lot of us who could call playing in a Champions League semifinal “normal circumstances,” but Frank Lampard can. And when he buried the kick for the go-ahead goal, clutched the black armband he was wearing for his mother, and collapsed sobbing under a mob of emotion-crazy teammates, I saw it again.
I think the “great” Frank Lampard is being reborn. Right now. In these worst – and best – of circumstances.
This rough and lurching sea of feelings – that is buffeting Chelsea's great tactician every moment of every day – may be about to spark him to some of the greatest performances of his career. Sometimes, the only answer is to just keep going. Sometimes, the seemingly unbearable emotional burden is answered by a gathering of greatness.
I believe we may be witnessing one of those times. If I were Manchester United – Chelsea's last-standing opponent for both titles – I would be on alert.
Though he never would have wished it, the stage is now perfectly set for the spectacular revival of Frank Lampard's great career.
Onward!
