World Cup Pt3

The final chapter!

I wanted to write this entry this morning, but as you can appreciate I was just too tired for that. I set my alarm and woke up at 1.20am to start watching the game. My eyes wouldn’t open at first; everything was a bit of a blur. Eventually though, I sat up in bed, cushions behind my head, and watched with baited breath – the Socceroos vs Italy!

Trevor had wanted to ‘go out’ to see at least one of the games. He claims I had ‘vetoed’ his attempts to go out to see other games (of course this is crap!). So, I guess last night was as good a night as any (although I was a little worried that he might not be able to go to work today). He went with a mate to Milton, where there were big screens and thousands of other Socceroos’ fans. So I stayed home and watched alone – really not as bad as it sounds!

The first half went by, followed by most of the second half. I thought Australia was playing really well (speaking from my limited experience). Once an Italian player was red carded and sent off (leaving them with a man down) I thought for sure we were in with a good chance. Whilst Australia had a lot of possession (significantly more then the Italians) in the second half, they just couldn’t put the ball in the net (something that would prove costly!).

In the final 8 seconds Australia conceded a penalty (what penalty – the ref’s eyes must have been painted on!) and Italy scored, thereby shattering Australia’s hopes of making it to the quarter finals. Like most Australians, I felt completely robbed; that it was just the cruellest of blows to lose like that (especially when you were clearly the better side). In my rage, as soon as the whistle blew and it was all over I grabbed that remote and turned the TV off faster then you can say "Italy sucks" (there may have been a few expletives muttered along the way).

After sending Trevor an SMS (the contents of which I can’t really repeat here) I tried in vain to go back to sleep (it was 3am). 3.30am arrived and there I was still wide awake when Trevor arrived home. I must admit, I was kind of glad to be watching it alone. I couldn’t bear to be around Trevor watching a game end like that. I wondered how he was taking it (if you hadn’t realised he is a passionate Socceroos supporter). I thought he would be carrying on, swearing and the like. To my surprise he was quite sombre; solemn in fact. He didn’t have much to say, just that he was "sad for the players" and "proud of the guys".

Like most Australians, I am extremely proud of the boys and the way they played in all their games. It was just a remarkable effort to make it to the second round. I really enjoyed watching them play and it has created an interest in Soccer that honestly wasn’t there before. Its funny though, how Australians are ‘over achievers’; the fact that we made it to the second round wasn’t good enough. We really thought we were in with a chance of making it further and clearly we were right. If it wasn’t for the fr*ckin dramatics of the Italian players, Australia might have conquered all – I guess we will have to wait and see what the future holds for the Socceroos. I can tell you though; they have a new fan in me!

Byronism of the day:

I said to Byron when I picked him up that the Socceroos had lost. In a sad little voice he replied "We can’t watch the Socceroos anymore" and "I don’t know why they lost?"