Well, it's over - for me at least. I'm referring to the World Cup. In one weekend, all of the flags on my floor at work have been taken down: the US by Ghana, England by Germany (ouch), and Mexico by Argentina. After The Fat Duck on Saturday, we motored home to change and then ran over to my favorite pub, The Drapers Arms, to watch the US v Ghana. I was really excited, having only had the chance to watch the second half of the US's last Group game which ended in a thrilling 91s goal to push them into the next round. But Ghana was good, and the last African team in the tournament, and by the half it was clear they were the better team. Our World Cup run ended, and I was sad to see it go. Clearly, the defeat called for The Irishman and I to continue drinking into the wee hours and suffer just as much as the team (only from a hangover).
Sunday was the England v Germany game, my next team to support, and frankly it wasn't worth writing about. Having lived here for two years, and knowing the ins and outs of Rooney, Gerrard, and Terry's lives and exploits, I expected a bit more from the lads. All of the English I know are taking the defeat in stride, saying things like at least the disappointment came early rather than late. At any case, now I have to suffer through a month of newspaper and blog sites reviewing and critically analyzing the England match, what went wrong, whether Capello is the right coach, ETC...
Then of course Argentina whupped Mexico but good, and I am sort of in love with Diego Maradona - he's such an amusing character; the only thing bigger than his personality is the cross he wears around his neck. So I might have to support Argentina for the rest of the tournament, in addition to The Netherlands due to my love of the Dutch and my good friend Rietje. But when you choose teams to follow, it's never quite as good as when your home team really does good. Next time, USA. xx
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