I'm going to keep this short. Anyone (Liverpool fans excluded at the time) watching the Champions League semi-final between Chelsea and Liverpool FC who did not have a lump in their throat when Frank Lampard scored that penalty and pointed to the heavens in memory of his beloved Mother is not human.

What guts, pride and nerve it must have taken to pick that ball up and slot it home. Stamford Bridge held its breath and I imagine the watching millions were hoping he could do it.

I would imagine that for Frank himself, that crucial kick was not about football. His mother Pat, who passed away last week, was there as much as she could be. When the cameras panned on to Frank Senior, the Chelsea hero's father looked like that strange mixture of pride and emptyness. He seemed to not know which way to turn or look.

'What guts, pride and nerve it must have taken to pick that ball up and slot it home'


It brings home to all of us that football pales into insignificance when something like this happens. Yet at the same time, through Lampard doing the one thing that his mother had seen him do many times, it brought his family and many, many fans together at one time in commemorating the loss of a loved one.

Well done, Frank. 

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