The time of the ¡FUTURISMOS! comes to a close with a 3-3 draw. I have no idea who scored for the ¡FUTURISMOS! because I played keeper and was a pitch away from that action, but it also means I know who allowed three goals—me. One was embarrassing, one was understandable, and one was unstoppable. Considering we started our incarnation with an 8-0 drubbing—and didn’t score a goal for several games—going out with 3-3 draw marked quite an improvement.
As is often the case we allowed ourselves to continue on longer than warranted. The last couple seasons were pretty miserable (in reality it was several seasons, maybe even a years’ worth) because the spirit went out of the thing a while back but trudged on despite ourselves vainly hoping it would come back. It didn't. Thus I can’t say I’m sad or even have mixed feelings. Our demise was overdue and as such the end was apropos. Nothing more, nothing less.
Les ¡FUTURISMOS! C’est fini.
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