twenty18

“For last year's words belong to last year's language 

And next year's words await another voice.” - T.S. Elliot

As the calendar year prepares itself for a software update, the world pauses to take a poignant glance over its shoulder. On life's treadmill, we are relentlessly instructed to look forwards whilst seconds, minutes and hours rush by under our feet. The turn of the year presents us with a rare opportunity to slow down and reflect on the produce of the last 365 days. We revisit the good, the bad, and the ugly of 2018, and evaluate how iOS19 will patch the shortcomings of its predecessor.

So, what does 2018 look like? Whilst 2017, 2016, 2015 and co. await the arrival of the history book's latest member, who is preparing to walk through the door? The answer is undoubtedly subjective. 

For some, 2018 is a brash, regressive and condescending, with thinning yellow hair and a sickly orange glow. For others, a panicked, uninspiring figure, unable to give a concrete answer to those that rely on it. Maybe it doesn't walk through the door, but instead rides in topless, on a horse. When the power players of global politics represent the cast of a bad seventies sitcom, media scramble to caricature them into the face of their annual review, but do we really want to remember 2018 as the year of Trump, Brexit and Vlad?

home

"Our country has been through difficult experiences in terms of unity. Sport — football in particular — has the power to help that. It is a special feeling." - Gareth Southgate

On 27th June 2016, English football was clouded with the ash of an Icelandic boom. As eleven players collapsed onto the pitch in Nice, fury raced its way from Lands End to John O'Groats. In its wake, the rage left shards of victimised pint glasses in puddles of beer-drenched tears. Football wasn't coming home, England were. The nation's disconnect with the squad had never been worse.

Fast forward 145 days, and words of disconnect continue to pollute the country's papers. Teresa May's frail Brexit proposal has left the country hanging from a tightrope, with her own teammates scything away at the rope one resignation at a time. With the country in need of a hero, English football’s candidature is no more than low-hanging fruit for satire. Right?

Flip to the back pages and fall into a utopian parallel. On Sunday afternoon, England beat Croatia to qualify for the UEFA Nations League finals in Portugal next June. The national stadium finally became a cauldron of passion, representing a euphoric microcosm that banished the fear and uncertainty of the outside world. 

The victory at Wembley topped off an incredible year of transformation for the national team, who became arguably the first people ever to stick to the concept of 'new year, new me'. Kittens became lions, and it becamse, dare i say it, ‘cool’ to support England again.