Yesterday I returned to that familiar spot where football joy and frustration usually settle into a glass, only this time there was no match to recover from. Instead, I stood with my dear friend Devin Heat, opening the night for our friends from Fluppe. The place felt softer than usual, as if it understood we’d come not to forget anything but to add a small, bright note to its worn‑in stories. photo (c) Thorsten Finner
