I’m going on holiday for two weeks, my first days off since the start of March. Forgive me, but emotional exhaustion is running so high I now leak spontaneous tears at the mere mention of the Marcus Rashford wall.
Football did not come home, as we all know now.
But it turns out racism, football hooliganism and political hypocrisy never left.
And when vandals defaced a mural depicting Marcus Rashford, after the Manchester United star missed one of the three penalties that cost England the Euro 2020 championship, his home city put its arms around him.
The letters and post-it notes left by children – “thank you for all our dinners” – were a heartfelt retort to the racists who abused Rashford and team-mates Jadon Sancho and Bukayo Saka following England’s 3-2 defeat by Italy in the Euro 2020 final.
They illustrate the lives that have been touched by Marcus Rashford’s campaigning on food poverty and free school meals.
And they remind us that whatever he goes on to achieve on the football field, he is going to be remembered for something much greater in the end.
Overwhelmed. Thankful. Lost for words ♥️🏴 pic.twitter.com/PXC5H2GDtB
— Marcus Rashford MBE (@MarcusRashford) July 13, 2021
Not all heroes wear Manchester United tops of course.
We celebrated a few of them in The Courier this week.
Some of them, like Mike Assenti, wear extreme weather gear and put their own survival on the line to save the lives of others.
Mountain man made a big impact
Mr Assenti was a stalwart of the Police Scotland (Tayside) Mountain Rescue Team for 30 years.
Following his death, aged 60, the father of two was described as that rarest of things – a born leader who was also the ultimate team player.
Tributes came from all quarters. But one that stood out was from a former team-mate who said of his mentor: “He never sought the limelight. He was always calm.
“And he always cared as much about the team he would send out onto the wilds of the Scottish mountains, as he did about those we would be trying to rescue.”
Imagine being remembered that fondly one day.
It takes someone quite exceptional to be part of a mountain rescue team. The hours of training, the readiness to put your life on the line for a stranger.
There are about as few of us made of that kind of right stuff as there are sportsmen with the flair of Marcus Rashford.
And that’s okay.
But we can still make tiny changes.
Take Sandy Boyd for example.
Some heroes wear blue boiler suits
The 82-year-old has run the Wormit Hedgehog Centre out of his Fife home for more than a quarter of a century.
He’ll have taken in thousands of the endangered creatures in that time and released a fair few of them back into the wild.
He has also been a source of support to members of the public, providing information and advice on what to do if they find a hedgehog in distress.
But this week he revealed he was retiring, due to failing health.
Sandy says his rescue efforts were what kept him going after his wife died three years ago.
However, a heart attack at the end of 2020 resulted in triple bypass surgery and a pacemaker. And now a dodgy hip has persuaded him it is time to take care of himself.
“When I was in the hospital at Ninewells I got up at 3am because that’s my usual routine to check on the hedgehogs,” he told our Matteo Bell.
“I remember the nurse was shouting at me that I was in the ICU and had to get back in my bed.”
Gratitude goes a long way
Sandy has more than earned his retirement and I hope he was as moved as I was by the comments from people thanking him for his kindness and dedication.
We all get to make choices – right or wrong – every day.
Save a person’s life, save a hedgehog’s, or sail on by.
Post hateful comments on social media or use your clout to ensure hundreds of thousands of children don’t go hungry.
Attack someone for failing, or acknowledge that someone did a good thing.
I don’t suppose Marcus Rashford, Sandy Boyd or Mike Assenti did any of it for the gratitude.
But when the rest of us show it, it sends a signal that kindness and decency do still count for something.
The bad guys swallow up the headlines and stir up the social media outrage. But when the rest of us turn out for the good guys it’s a reminder of who is actually in the majority.
There are good people working quiet miracles in all our communities every day.
We might not all deserve to be remembered as heroes. But we can at least lift up the ones who do and make a difference in our own small way.