Its comin’ home, its comin’, football’s comin’ home… (rinse and repeat. And repeat and repeat and repeat until your phone simply has no further capacity for alternative takes on ‘its coming home’ and won’t free up the space to take 17 more photos of Lila!!)
The team done good. Our boys was mangificent. At the end’a da day, free points was free points. And we got’em all. Even though you don’t get no points. Nah. You get to play in the semi-final instead, ‘gainst Croatia on Wednesday. Innit.
The superlatives are flowing, the hyperbole excessive and the grammar appalling, following the biggest England win for 28 years. Lila’s mum was 2. Her sister a mere fertilised egg. Gary Linneker was a player, our national captain and leader. Maggie Thatcher came to the end of her reign and passed the baton over to John, slightly-interesting Major. Queen Victoria was… dead, Winston Churchill was… also dead, Gary Glitter was not in jail and the number one song in England was something so unmemorable that I have no idea. Ahhhh, 1990.
Because the world cup semi-finals are a big deal. Its a very big deal. And I think, on reflection, I’m happier playing Croatia than Russia on grounds of safety, security and everyone staying alive long enough to finish the game. And Croatia are the smallest country, by population in the world cup. But what else do we know about them? Personally, I know next to nothing other than they’re part of that horrible, confusing mish-mash of Bosnia, Serbia, Macedonia, Kosovo and so many others that at one time were called ‘Yugoslavia’. No more. Now they’re all split (no pun intended) but Croatia did the best of all because they managed to steal the entire coastline ensuring lots of Adriatic seaside. And all the people have names ending in -ic, which is pronounced -ich. Like Modric, Rakatic, Digadic, Withoutahic and Fuckingric. There ends today’s lesson on Croatia.
Yesterday’s game against Sweden wasn’t an exciting match, very few expected it to be. It was, as we say, ‘comfortable’. Croatia will be different. They can play. Although they too were stifled in their match yesterday by the Russians and had to win on penalties. So I’m interested to see if MY England can win against a ‘proper’ team. A team who want to play and win, rather than stifle and inhibit. But if we win… omg, if we win… then we can play one of two teams in Belgium or France, who really know how to play.
Happy no-football Sunday
A xxxx
Don’t you dare say you’ll have no more room on the page for Lila! What,, you mean you would deprive her from being on the page in her beautiful outfits and glowing, happy face? That would mean you would deprive us all from Seeing her in the pic. As far as we women are concerned she IS the blog, the whole of it. Have I got it wrong? I often do!
I have to agree with your excitement and optimism for the near future. So far so good. Vic and son Steve agree with you wholeheartedly. It’s all footie in this household. Even Wimbledon has taken second place and as for the Grand Prix, that can go in the dustbin. Can’t STAND the noise. Vic loves it. Am I a good wife or am I a good wife?
As for memories, I remember 1966 . I was actually at Wembley.. Perhaps that was for Spurs winning the double or was it for the World Cup when England beat Germany.?? All I know is the framed placard of Spurs winning the double is still up on the wall in Steve’s toilet!, There he can SIT and ponder in wonderment.
C’MON ENGLAND! We know you can do, it!”
Happy days ahead PG !
Shirley H xxxx