After-Match Wank

France won!

Er... as the Europeans and a sizeable portion of Americans and Australians will know.

Early into the match, England scored and for the entire remainder of the ninety minutes, France tried and tried again and again to score, but it was England's game. Then, in the appointed ten minutes or so of injury time, France was awarded a penalty. They scored. Hell, a draw would have been cool, because it would have meant no gloating on either side. Then England goalkeeper David James decided that what he really wanted to be doing right now was running out onto the pitch and booting French player Thierry Henry right in the legs. A free kick, a score. France owned England.

I'm all jumping up and down, and my bewildered friend asks why on earth I'm happy for France, and I mumble something about being unable to support a team whose mantra is "God Save the Queen."

But! More than that, it was just a damned great match. You couldn't have made the ending up after ninety minutes of despair. Or elation for my country. Whichever. Now, if all football matches were like this, I wouldn't be wishing that every club would explode in a ball of flames when a programme is shifted for a football match on television.

Wow. Two posts about football in as many days. Hear me now-- football will never be mentioned in my journal again, ever. Unless Johnny Depp streaks across the pitch or those confounded stadiums really do blow up.