I am done with valiant defeats, I really am. The story of the (England-Portugal) match is almost as uninteresting and gruelling to relate as was trying to find somewhere to watch it (big screen, you let me down today). Supporting England is almost like a curse: disappointment is inevitable; if there is a close game to be lost, we will endeavour to lose it; someone on our team will certainly lose it; there will be some kind of injustice that will lodge in the collective memory and be quoted in mitigation, but will not change the result one jot.
The Italian word for 'penalties' is very apt, I think.
As in the afternoon, so in the evening - I arrived home in a state of exhaustion. Poleaxed by the heat and the sudden loss of so much invested emotional capital, I lay down on the floor, and promptly fell asleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment