For years we were running from the truth, hanging on with what little strength we had to our history and preferring to look away from today. This year, the reality is more brilliant than anything we could possibly have imagined.
The match's final whistle brought me back to the faces, the voices and the colours of recent seasons. Every time our rivals celebrated at our expense, I remember us repeating the well-worn mantra "our pain is transitory, our pride is everlasting". I recall the faces of the supporters of our city rivals at the exit of the stadium after yet another embarrassing derby debacle. I remember Douglas Da Silva, Samuel Yeboah and yes, even Fabio Junior pummeling us time after time in the closing minutes. I remember Shimon Abuchatzira's winning goal for Hapoel Petah Tikva in the pouring rain and the celebrations on the benches of Hapoel Akko after their fourth goal in the Cup. I recall how the terraces would get emptier and emptier as the season progressed and those infuriating victories in the seasons' final matches when there was really nothing left to play for.
I remember Henry Makinawa, Elvin Bagiri and Scott Sealy, and I find it hard to put them in the same frame as Rade Prica, Carlos Garcia or Vincent Enyeama. I remember Bevan Fransman's goal at the Ramat Gan Stadium and Dimitar Telkijski sticking his tongue out at us after smashing the ball into Drogslab Ibritz's net. I remember the celebrations of Maccabi Haifa fans and the football commentators' criticism that we "let the ball slip between our legs" even though that's the way we generally played. I remember Lior Jan's slip of the tongue after the goalless derby draw and the celebrations after winning the League Cup, just as if we'd won the Champion's League. I remember the years when we preferred not to read the back pages of the newspapers and avoided the late night sports news and commentators broadcasts.
I return to the sights, the sounds and the colours and suddenly I awake to a new reality, a reality far beyond what I'd ever imagined, and as we all know the imagination is the greatest weapon in the war against reality. A reality where Moannes Dabbur scores the winning goal against Maccabi Haifa and sends the "Greenies" back home empty handed. A reality where Eliran Atar scores a hat-trick at Haifa's Kiryat Eliezer Stadium and ends eight years of misery against Hapoel Haifa. A reality where Barak Levi blocks a dubious penalty deep into stoppage time and Moshe Lugassi smashes a winner into Aiyenugba's net after almost a hundred minutes of play. I wake up to a reality where Tel Aviv has gone all Yellow and where the number "four" is transformed from the extent of a nightmare to the outlines of a dream. I awaken to five goals against Beitar Jerusalem and a dramatic turnaround at Ramat Hasharon. I awaken to a reality where Maccabi Tel Aviv and National Champions are one and the same thing.
"My luck is having you, you understand me and show me myself, I delight in you like a spoiled child and I stay with you. In the end I come to you every night, you reveal to me the secrets of your modesty and pitied me as a mother would and together we beat them all."
