Physically, as far as location was concerned, I was in the Bounce Sports Bar on Second Avenue in New York city. Most of our family had convened to celebrate our son’s fortieth birthday, but by Sunday afternoon game time, only my wife and I remained. She decided to cruise the boulevards while I indulged my passion.

Having spent the previous afternoon in the same establishment with my son-in-law to watch the third place game involving Uruguay and Germany, I was well aquainted with its cozy confines.

The crowd started to arrive around noon for the 2:30 kickoff. Orange and black intermixed with red and yellow flags, scarves, banners, and yes, vuvuzelas were in evidence, and the nervous engery was electric.

But what do you do, personnally, when your two favourite teams are playing each other, and one of them has to lose?

My love affair with the Dutch started in 1974, when Johan Cruyff and “total football”  invaded Germany for the World Cup, and almost won the championship, losing 2-1 to the hosts. The Netherlands have been known for aggressive, free flowing football ever since.

Their loss to Argentina in W.C.1978, was once again to the hosts, on this occasion in extra time. It was a brutally physical match, and for the Orangemen, the result was a bitter pill to swallow.

That game, and tournament itself, formed the basis of the novel “Renaldo,” that I wrote several years later.

So, 2010 was the Netherland’s third appearance in a World Cup final. The Orange had not been touted to do very well this time out, mainly because of their “always a bridesmaid,” reputation. What made me perk up and take interest was how their star players were performing in the European Champions League playdown in April and May.

When Dutch super stars Arjen Robben and Mark Van Bommel of Bayern Munich met Inter Milan’s Wesley Sneijder in the Champions League final, it convinced me that there was enough talent on the Netherlands to make a strong run in the World Cup.

As for Spain, a perennial under-achiever, the 2008 European Championships showed the world that this was a different Spanish side, one of supreme talent, patience, and a killer instinct. Their final game performance against a strong German side was one for the ages. How could you not fall in love with long haired Fernando Torres, the crafty Andres Iniesta, and hunky keeper, Iker Casillas?

And so it came to pass that on July 11, 2010, the two teams I fancied the most were going head to head in the biggest game of their lives. One team had to win, there was no doubt about that. Would the Dutch be third time lucky? Could the smaller Spanish team withstand the withering physical play that the Oranje were certain to throw at them and reign supreme?

The game itself was the ultimate chess match. Two different styles of play, two different temperments. History was not on Spain’s side, for no team that had lost their first game of the tournament had ever gone on to win the prize.
Once the English referee blew his whistle, however, history was forgotten.

Anyone who thought that soccer was not a physical sport, that it was played by primadonnas who would tumble to the pitch at the slightest touch, would have their eyes opened during this battle royale. It was all out war, no quarter asked, no quarter given. In between the record number of fouls and bookings, there were countless occurances of brilliant, spine-tingling football.

In the end, as so often is the case when two teams are so evenly matched in skill and emotion, the crowning of the champion came down to goaltending.

Iker Casillas of Spain made all the saves he had to make on that fated evening, Maarten Stekelenburg of the Netherlands did not. Andres Iniesta’s brilliant stike in the one hundred and sixteenth minute gave La Furia Roja their first ever Jules Rimet Trophy, and sent Latin hearts soaring.

Back at the Bounce Bar, there were equal parts of elation and deflation. Red and yellow colours filled the room, and orange and black suddenly disappeared. It had been a breathtaking experience, and as I walked back to my hotel, I felt both of the above emotions.

The reality that the greatest sporting even in the world was actually over, and that reality beckoned, did not hit me until the next morning. Bummer!

The whole month had been an amazing drama right to the finish, culminating in the World Cup final game…and how I saw it.

Set amidst the political unrest that colors so much of Argentina’s history, Renaldo is the epic tale of the De Seta family. Renaldo De Seta is the younger of two sons in this powerful and wealthy family. When Renaldo is seven, his father Peter is killed while visiting England for a soccer tournament. This tragedy shapes the family and is largely responsible for determining what both Renaldo and his older brother Lonnie will become.

The death of his father fills Lonnie with rage, and he struggles for years to manage it. When Celeste Lavelle enters Lonnie’s life as a college instructor, she manipulates Lonnie into falling in love with her and joining her as a member of a terrorist organization. Renaldo chooses a very different path. He devotes himself to playing the acoustic guitar and soccer—two of his father’s favorite pastimes. In 1977 he attends the championship game of the Argentine Soccer League and when violence breaks out between fans on opposing sides, he is instrumental in saving the life of Astro Gordero, a ruthless but influential Argentinean lawyer. Gordero sees potential in Renaldo and hopes to turn the young man’s talents into profit. He gives Renaldo an opportunity to try out for the Argentinean 1978 World Cup Soccer team, and sets himself up as his manager.

The author has accomplished a great deal with this book. Beginning with Renaldo’s grandfather Lonfranco Guissepe De Seta, who immigrated to Buenos Aires in 1898 from Italy, the author paints a vivid picture of the era through the experiences of the De Seta family, sharing information about the culture, economics, and politics of this country. The author also introduces readers to the game of fútbol, which he generally refers to as soccer. This sport is clearly one that the author is passionate about; he captures a great deal of excitement in his description of the games. For example, about the beginning of the World Cup finale, he writes:

By two fifty-eight p.m., the team photographs had been taken, the combatants had exchanged informal handshakes and hollow good wishes with one another, and the teams had saluted the multitudes with upraised arms. Now, finally, Italian referee Giovanni Patrizio stood over the ball at center field. Four years of preparations, qualifying matches, exhibition contests, scandals, name calling, and bitter rivalries had all led to this one moment.

Ultimately, this story is about hope. Peter De Seta’s father came to Argentina with nothing but hope that he could make a better life for himself. He instilled the same sense of optimism in his son. After Peter’s death, his two sons choose very different paths: One chooses despair, and the other chooses hope. The actions that stem from these choices will leave readers contemplating the power of this quiet feeling.

Click here to read the review of Renaldo on ForeWord Reviews.

Set in Argentina during the 1978 World Cup, “Renaldo” tells the story of a young soccer prodigy, whose fate is swept up in the passion, power and politics surrounding the greatest sporting event ever held in his native land.

Historically precise, and graphically depicted, “Renaldo” takes the reader behind the scenes to the boardrooms and locker rooms, boudoirs and the terraces, on a journey that ends one fateful afternoon in a temple known as “Monumental.”

This book is a perfect reading companion during the upcoming World Cup in South Africa.

Let this story ignite your own passion!

“Renaldo” is available at amazon.com and on the Kindle reader. An electronic, downloadable version will be available shortly at www.renaldo.com.

Not only is the world-wide economic news somewhat better, but football, (soccer) fans have only a few months to wait until the World Cup begins in South Africa.

I plan to tag along on my blog, with commentary and reaction.

The fun begins in early June. Hope you will join me.

Cheers, James.

A Life’s Passion has just been selected to screen at this year’s Miami Short Film Fest, November 17 -23 The film is a beautifully-shot and animated hybrid that conveys the authenticity of author James McCreath’s dramatic life, and his fictionalized telling of real world historical events in Argentina from its first years of industrialization to the terrorism and politics underscoring the country’s host role in the 1970’s World Cup.

The Miami Short Film Festival and the University of Miami School of Communication (UM SoC) have partnered for the second year in a row to present the festival’s weeklong event. The School of Communication’s dean, Sam Grogg, will again take a leadership role in the festival to ensure the partnership’s success.

Excited to once again have the support and influence that the esteemed School of Communications and its staff provide the organization and the annual weeklong event, William Vela, founder of director of the festival, has said, “I look forward to moving forward with Dean Grogg and the University again this year, and focusing on the expansion of our relationship.”

The Miami Short Film Festival, founded by William Vela in 2001, began as a means to fill a need in the Miami film community. After a successful first event, which featured seventeen local films, the festival opened its doors to national and international filmmakers to highlight the best short films from around the world.

Now in its seventh year, the Miami Short Film Festival has screened over 600 films from 23 countries for thousands of attendees, given away thousands of dollars in cash and prizes, exposed thousands of high-school students to the art of filmmaking, and provided dozens of local partners with unique programming.

The Miami Short Film Festival is a dedicated contributor to the cultural arts, economy, and education of Miami-Dade County. Through a highly effective strategic partnership model, MsFF has introduced its unique programs and programming into theaters, classrooms, businesses, and organizations throughout Miami-Dade County. Our 2007 Outreach Program gave 1,000 Miami-Dade County Public Schools (MDCPS) students hands-on filmmaking training. Our 2007 Evening of Latin American Cinema provided Miami-Dade College’s Tower Theater with a sold-out Friday night screening, and our 2007 Children and Families screening allowed Miami Children’s Museum visitors to enjoy a day of tailored programming.

We awarded over $15,000 in cash and prizes during the 6th annual installment of the festival, and helped the Best of Festival award winner secure representation with The Gersh Agency. In addition, an evaluation of 2007’s 6th annual Miami Short Film Festival indicates attendees representative of one-third of all the films screened traveled to Miami for the festival.

Our responsibilities to effect positive change in our community drive our outreach efforts. As an international short film festival we cater to the world’s most creative filmmaking genre, short films provide consumers more for their money, and are an exciting way to discover new talent. Our outreach component will allow us to reach more filmmakers locally and around the world, and give tailored programming to our partner organizations around Miami-Dade County to share with their audiences and help fill their venues.

www.miamishortfilmfestival.com

The film is a beautifully shot and animated hybrid that conveys the authenticity of author James McCreath’s dramatic life, and his fictionalized telling of real-world historical events in Argentina from its first years of industrialization to the terrorism and politics underscoring the country’s host role in the 1970’s World Cup.

The reality is that life’s highway also includes winding curves, detours, dead-ends, minor accidents and even tragic fatalities.

I was fortunate to be able to cruise along for the first twenty years of my life, until I drove head on into a tragic fatality. The sudden death of my mother sent me off on the back roads, which were full of detours and dead-ends. I spent several years hoping I would find the open road again.

It was the love I found when I had my own family, a beautiful wife and two daughters, that put me back on the freeway. For eleven years there was hardly a bump or a pothole in the smooth blacktop.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, our route became more perilous. Unimaginable obstructions were found in our path, until around one particular blind curve, we lost our dear wife and mother.

Once again there were years of detours and dead ends. Nevertheless, with faith, hope, and a passion to find that highway to happiness again, my daughters and I found an angel that guided us in the right direction.

The lesson learned is that life’s excursion contains miles and miles of untraveled road. Whatever lies around the next bend, be prepared to hit either the brakes, or the accelerator.

Good luck, and safe driving.
* * *
by James McCreath

“Time, like money, can easily slip away… leaving one to wonder, which of the two was really the most important.”
—Ralph McCreath.

He was, for the most part, simply known as “Ralph.”

It was a name that stood out… just like the man himself.

Ralph McCreath (click to enlarge)

His presence was felt the moment he walked into a room. He had a way about him that made people take notice.

Ralph Scott McCreath was born in April of 1919, and grew up in north Toronto. While he never had a problem with academics, it was athletics that he excelled in.

Football and hockey were his initial loves, and at North Toronto Collegiate in the 1930’s he was both a powerful running back and multi-talented skater. His skating prowess was so exceptional that opposing defensemen would slide into his skates to slow him down.

One day, his coach brought a wooden bench out onto the ice and told Ralph the only way he could get around his checkers was to leap over them. So Ralph leaped and leaped and leaped, and sooner than later traded his hockey skates for figure skates.

As with everything he pursued, Ralph immersed himself in the art and science of figure skating whole-heartedly. In 1935 he joined the Toronto Skating Club and set about perfecting several different disciplines: men’s singles, mixed pairs, dance and “fours,” where two couples would skate in unison. In his first season of figure skating, he and his partner won the Canadian Junior pairs championship.

Ralph, along with many of his peers, would hitchhike to Lake Placid New York each summer, where the only artificial ice surface in the north-east existed. The long hours and hard work paid off in spades.

Teaming up with the talented and beautiful Veronica Clarke, the pair won the gold medal at the 1936 Canadian championships. Ralph also garnered a silver medal in the fours.

1937 saw Ralph and Veronica repeat as pairs champions, as well as capturing a gold medal in the “tenstep” dance competition, and a silver in the waltz category.

The couple then set out for Boston to compete in the bi- annual North American Figure Skating championships. They were successful in winning the pairs gold medal, and Ralph placed third in the men’s division.
In 1938 Ralph and Veronica retained their Canadian pairs title, and placed first in the new “fourteen step” dance grouping. Ralph continued his amazing streak by acquiring a gold in the fours competition, and placing second to perennial favourite Montgomery Wilson in the men’s challenge.

The following year, Ralph skated in the Canadian pairs competition with another lady, Norah McCarthy, winning the gold medal. He again placed second to Montgomery Wilson in the men’s bracket.

The North American championships were held in Toronto in 1939, and on this occasion Ralph competed with Montgomery Wilson and the Caley sisters, Hazel and Dorothy, and kept the “fours” gold medal in Canada.

Ralph and Norah placed second in the pairs, and Ralph again won the silver, after Montgomery Wilson, in the men’s table.

1940 was the year that Ralph won his first Canadian men’s title. He and Norah also successfully held on to their pairs championship.

The world of figure skating was not immune from events that swirled around the globe in those days. Ralph and several of his fellow Canadian skaters had been selected to compete on the Olympic team heading to the 1940 winter games in Japan. The problem was the Japanese were waging an oppressive war in several Asian countries, and many nations in the international community were threatening to boycott the games. In the end, Japan canceled their plans to be the host, saying it would be too distracting to their military effort.
The Olympics were then relocated to Helsinki, Finland, but the tragic events that took place in Europe during the fall of 1939 forced their cancellation completely.

With his golden opportunity to compete in the Olympics put on hold, 20 year-old Ralph continued his studies at the University of Toronto, with an eye on heading to law school after he secured his Bachelor of Arts degree. Little did he know that six terrible years would pass before this goal could be achieved.

With Canada at war as of September 1939, so many things changed for this generation of young Canadians. Gone were the care-free days that had marked their ascent into adulthood. Family, friends, and neighbours were signing up and heading off to a very uncertain future. Everyone was expected to do his or her duty, and many young women joined to nursing corps to lend a helping hand.

In October 1940 Ralph enlisted in the 48th. Highlanders of Canada. There was time, however, before he shipped out, to add a few more medals to his trophy case.

Skating with a new partner, Eleanor O’Meara, Ralph again won the Canadian pairs and men’s crowns in Montreal in early 1941. Following that success, they travelled to Philadelphia where he and Eleanor won the pairs gold medal and Ralph became the men’s figure skating champion of North America.

While there is a wealth of knowledge available detailing Ralph’s figure skating accomplishments, the same cannot be said about his four years in the Canadian army. The official records reveal that he served with the 48th. Highlanders and the Royal Canadian Ordinance Corps between 1941 and 1945. He was stationed initially in England, and then saw action in North Africa and France, rising to the rank of Major.

Ralph seldom, if ever, talked about his war time experiences, and most, if not all, of the veterans that were with him are gone now.

As a curious youngster I would often ask him questions about his time in the army. He would always talk about the wonderful people he had met, and the amazing places he had seen, but there as a different look in his eyes when he spoke of these things. He would try to change the subject as quickly as possible. I am sure he must have felt that after living through those hellish times, some memories are best left untold.

There were, however, hundreds of snap-shot photos of his days in the military that I discovered after he had passed.

These included pictures of his proud parents standing beside Ralph in his first uniform. He came from a very close-knit family that included two sisters, June and Louise, and a younger brother Ross, who also served in Canadian army overseas. You can see the look of admiration in their eyes as their famous brother was about to do his duty for his country.

For those left behind, there also must have been a terrible sense the fear and anguish in their hearts, knowing that there was a chance that they would never see their loved-ones again. The day they made it home safely would certainly have been the happiest day of their lives.

I did find out, on one occasion when I was about ten years old, that Ralph was very well respected by the soldiers he served with. We were working in our garage together on a go-cart racer that he was building for me. A taxi pulled into our driveway, and the cabbie got out and addressed Ralph.

“Are you Major McCreath?” the man asked.

When the response was affirmative, the man exclaimed,

“I was a machine-gunner in your Company…and you were the best officer we ever had!”
After Ralph returned from overseas in 1946, he enrolled in university and graduated from Osgoode law school in 1949. His career in international corporate law lasted over four decades, and he was awarded the designation of “Queen’s Counsel” in 1960.

Also in 1946, just to prove he could do it, he laced on his skates for one more competition, and won the Canadian men’s figure skating championship again.

A year or so before the war, Ralph met the love of his life through his best friend, Allen Roberts. “Ali,” as he was known, was a high school buddy, who was dating a beautiful blonde girl named Frances Robertson of Havergal College. “Fran’s” best friend at school was a brown haired dish named Myrtle. The four became best friends for life, with Ali marrying Fran in 1943 and Ralph marrying Myrtle in 1946.

Over the next fourteen years Ralph and Myrtle had four children, three boys, then finally a beautiful little girl. When Myrtle passed away suddenly in 1968, Ralph bravely soldiered-on as widower, raising his kids with strong, never-ending guidance and an abundance of love and affection.

Shortly after he retired from competitive skating, he was awarded the position of international figure skating Judge for Canada, and subsequently officiated in four Olympic Games and ten World Championships.

Ralph was extremely active in fund raising for his beloved sport. He was an executive on the CFSA, founding member of the Olympic Trust of Canada, a Trustee of the Olympic Endowment Fund, and on several occasions, team leader and manager of Canada’s national figure skating teams. In recognition of his skill and dedication, Ralph was inducted in the Canadian Figure Skating Hall of Fame in January 1995.

Aside from all his accomplishments, Ralph loved to have fun. He and Ali formed a musical trio with good friend Dave Shirriff, Ralph on the piano and gut-bucket, (bass) Ali on the guitar, and Dave on the snare drum. The boys were very good musicians, and played for fun at all sorts of events and parties.

nd yes, there were parties, many great, wonderful parties! I have never seen a group of people so full of life and merriment as were my parents and their friends. I am sure that after living through the Great Depression and then the Second World War, life in the 1950’s and 1960’s must have seemed like paradise to them.

Ralph remarried to a lovely lady, Anna, after many years of being alone, and it was a blessing that we were all thankful for. They travelled the world together, enjoyed each-other’s company immensely, and she was with him until his final breath.

Ralph McCreath was the person that influenced me more than anyone in my life. He was an amazing father, never having to give you more than a “look,” to let you know you were out of line. We would be loath to upset him, or let him down, because we respected him so much. He was also my mentor and friend.

When he left us in May of 1997, it was like a bright light had gone out in the lives of everyone who knew him. He was irreplaceable…there would only ever be one “Ralph.”

One of the items I came across amongst his personal possessions was a hand written note, in his unmistakable bold script, bearing the quotation at the beginning of this memoir.

So Dad, there is no wondering in my mind which of the two, time or money, are really the most important.
I would have given all the money I ever had to be able to spend more time with you.

James McCreath, November 2008

A Life’s Passion has been invited to take part in the online competition of the First Glance Film Festival, Philadelphia! Directed by Gary Thomas, the film is a short docu-drama adaptation of James McCreath’s epic novel Renaldo. The competition goes live September 16th on the First Glance Film Festival website.

Click here to vote for A Life’s Passion (starting September 16th)