I waited at the airport
I waited at the airport, the lights were bright
and the sleet was wet but my spirits were high;
As high as the airplane heading my way.
This was it at last, our record signing was to make
Cardiff his home. He’d learn to love the Welsh way
of living with his heart on his sleeve and we’d learn
to say his name properly.
Emiliano was to be our saviour. From the outset
Cardiff had been written off as the worst team in premier
league history and whilst the Bluebirds had earned
points,
no one thought it would last.
December came and the transfer window beckoned, rumours
of French fancies came our way but nothing certain. One
minute it was on, the next it was off. Bluebirds learning
to take each bit of speculation with more than a pinch of
salt.
Then one night it all came true. A dismal showing in
Newcastle city centre only offset by the announcement
that
Emiliano, was after all, a Bluebird.
The message boards lit up, “there’s a new Sala in town”
he proclaimed.
Suddenly amongst the January blues a
glint of hope and a French breeze brought hope anew.
Argentina’s first ever Cardiff player and the Bluebirds
expected goals at last.
Just one final goodbye was all that stood between Emi and
his Premier League dream.
Kennels sorted, instagram photos
posted and final visits to the town café done as Sala
climbed aboard his
final vessel.
I spend nine to five daily grinds at Cardiff airport and
I’m still waiting,
still waiting for Emi to arrive. To see him walk through arrivals
with that big smile,to have him sign my top and post that
selfie
exclusive on twitter.
He’s never arrived, a watery grave became his final
resting place
but I can’t stop waiting at the airport. Goodnight Emi, I hope
that the boys do you proud on the pitch and your family
know
that we will never forget you.
Sleep well brother, once a Bluebird, always a Bluebird.
Paul Gronow 15.02.19
