Siddity In The City

I love the soccer.

World Cup is over.

I know I said I didn't care who won after England was eliminated, and that was true. That didn't mean I didn't plan to watch the final game, though.

Early Sunday, Stolie texted me with the rendezvous info, very, very early. Roughly an hour or so later, I was ready to get out of bed and begin the long haul down to Little Italy. I think I only got about 40 blocks before she called again. It was about noon. Mulberry street was already filling up, despite the fact that the game wouldn't start for nearly three hours. I hopped in a cab and zipped over, just in time for us to grab one of the last free outdoor tables at a little pastry shop/cafe, one right next to the big screen.

Fastforward two hours and we were firmly entrenched in the thick of a raucous, blue-shirted (though not a Les Bleus-shirted) crowd, defending our little table and precious view of the screen from the surging masses. Okay, only a few tried to surge, really, and they generally were promptly shouted back out of the way. (The photogs were the most irritating, leaning in and taking snaps of the screen, the crowd, anything at all, apparently, much to our dismay.)

Another two hours and we were all nailbiting, sweating, tense wrecks as the tied game went into overtime. A little ways on from that, and little gasps went up as Zizou blew his top--and then rammed it into Matterazi's chest like a rampaging bull.

When France missed a goal, and Italy scored its fifth, the entire street--teeming with people who had turned Italian for the day--went bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Italy took a fourth cup, and the World-Cup fever broke. But, like a malarial fit, it will be back. Zudafrica, 2010.

In the meantime, I have no idea what to do with myself of a weekend. I'll have to take up curling or something.

posted by Sid @ 7/11/2006 02:11:00 AM