I’m not a drinker these days, but I had four pints of lager yesterday while watching the football in my favourite pub. I would like to say we had a brilliant day, but England lost 4 – 1 to Germany in the World Cup, which means they are now on their way home.
I watched in disbelief when the Uruguayan referee disallowed a perfectly valid goal and the whole pub erupted. After the match had ended, I had to wonder what would have happened had the goal been allowed.
Would England have won the game and gone through to the next stage? We will never know, but I doubt it, as Germany were the better team.
I, like many others, had great expectations when Fabio Capello took over as manager. After all, his record as manager is pretty good, with League and Champions League titles under his belt with teams like Milan, Real Madrid, Roma and Juventus.
His time with England isn’t so good and I see many are asking him to throw in the towel. I too believe he should go, my reason being that he just can’t deliver the goods.
Anyway, enough of that. The point of this article is to tell you about my afternoon.
The streets were deserted, the pubs were full and the fans were singing their heads off. I met up with friends, some of whom I haven’t seen for quite a while. If ever you want to meet up with old friends but don’t know how to get in touch, you know they will appear on footy day. Sorted!
Football days in my local go like this... DJ playing football songs, 1st half of the game, more footy songs, 2nd half of the game followed by disco. It is a very lively affair thanks to the wonderful landlord, landlady and bar staff.
We really didn’t think the game would go the way it did and the disappointment on people’s faces as Germany scored that fourth goal said it all. Some walked out, but many of us stayed to the end to watch the match come to its painful conclusion.
Everyone was numb, stunned, dumbfounded to see our national team get such a thrashing.
We all piled outside to sit in the sun and drown our sorrows when a football appeared. This is common practise when England play. The whole pub comes outside and plays footy in the street. It’s a main road and I remember a few years ago the town was cut off as cars, buses etc couldn’t get through.
Of course the police came and closed down all the pubs in the area. God knows why because there was no violence, just harmless fun at the end of a long days drinking. The police round here don’t handle things very well to be honest and sometimes it can turn nasty. Little Hitlers, some of them, especially the ‘specials’. I think the authority goes to their head.
Yesterday was different; maybe they realised that if they just take a step back everything will be fine. I didn’t see one policeman, not one, and everyone had a whale of a time.
We lost four footballs yesterday, all of them ending up on top of the shops and no way to get them back. Of course all the shops were shut so we couldn’t buy any more.
I left at around 9pm. I was ready for something to eat and put my feet up, but everyone else was still in full swing.
You really wouldn’t have thought England had lost.
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