Monday, July 12, 2010


I didn't really pay attention to the World Cup at all while it was going on. I watched part of the USA game versus Ghana and I watched a Lego recap of the US goal against England. Other than that, I mostly forgot it was going on.

But I decided a week or so ago that I was going to care who won the final. It just so happened that my favorite Spanish-speaking country made it to the match, so naturally I rooted for them. If neither of the final teams had spoken Spanish, I definitely would've rooted for the Netherlands based on the sole fact that one of my favorite artists is from there and she was rooting for them. My alliance is weak.

As it was, I made sure to remind myself every so often over the past few days that the end was near.

This morning I tuned in to the pre-game show and watched avidly as the chummers on the TV discussed soccer, which basically meant that most of the conversation went over my head. I was rather awed by the footage of the Dutch cross-continent caravan. That's a lot of orange. I was equally floored by the shots of Amsterdam and the veritable sea of people, no hyperbole.

Their bright colors and terrific dedication could not sway me, however. I'm rather partial to Spain, having been there once and having watched the only real football game I've ever watched there. Now I kind of wish it had been a real, live match, but naw. I watched a Barcelona vs. Italy match on a TV at a bar-type place. I really think that if I ever got into watching football, Barcelona would be my team. Oh, look at me sounding all British. I'm just going to go with it. I've been reading Harry Potter, you know, and in Spanish no less. Sorry, Grid-Iron. Get over it.

Haha! I just realized how many times I've already called it "football." Let's carry on, shall we? This is what I get for being hooked on British YouTubers.

Anywho, I got to watch the first half, ninja kick to the chest and all, and I spent the entire half freaking out while NED had the ball and being disproportionately excited when ESP was in possession. I'm kind of glad I was alone. I would've looked like a giddy ignoramus to anyone who actually knew anything about football. It was obvious even to me and amidst all of the naive conversations that I was having with the TV that I know nothing about the sport. Thanks to She's the Man I could probably name a few of the positions, but buggets if I know what they mean. And I'm just sort of guessing what "off sides" means and what would happen if someone racked up enough yellow cards.

Oh, cluelessness.

Sadly I didn't get to watch the entire game as I had to leave for church. I did get to check the results during Sunday School, though. We were playing a sort of Jeopardy game and the teacher had divided us into the Netherlands and Spain (I was miffed that I was on the Dutch side of the room), so I felt almost compelled to check the scores. I dampened the teacher's day when I announced the winner halfway through class. He was rooting for NED. But I was thrilled.

I'm also kind of smug that the German octopus was on our side. Don't know why, but there you have it.

Listening to: "Pöpcørn" by The Swedish Chef
Reading: Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal

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