Growing up, I seemed to not have gotten out of the habit. Not that I learn from this, judging from the expression on my darling husband's face when I busily wiped away my tears using the back of my hand or palms instead of having a sachet of tissue always ready every time I went to the movie with him. If anything, it seems to have gotten worse; it's not unusual for me to shed a tear watching an actress deliver their acceptance speech after winning an Oscar, especially if said actress was blubbering herself; and, from time to time, I have been known to get a little bit teary watching a wonderful choreography from 'So You Think You Can Dance' number, or simply listening to some powerful song lyric.
Today, I watched 'Invictus', starring Matt Damon and Morgan Freeman. It's based on a true story about Nelson Mandela, newly elected South African president, barracking for the South African rugby team to be part of the 1995 World Cup; a team that comprised mostly of Caucasian Englishmen either born or raised or migrated to South Africa.
The following part contains SPOILER of the movie so if you are planning to watch the movie later on and don't want to know what happened at the very end yet, stop reading now!
The team not only made it to Rugby World Cup, they ended up winning. And at the very end scene, these 'white' hands were lifting the cup trophy up high in the air... and this black hand crept up - belonging from the only black player in the team. And I BAWLED!
I know, I know... the real reason I bawled was because I had a soft spot for liberation, for unity between men and women from all walks of life, regardless of race, colour, and appearance. But, for God's sake... this is, essentially, SPORT! Rough, dirty, grubby, manly occasion, and I was crying.
Perhaps calling me a hopeless case is not all that unwarranted...
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