The Brazilians in '82 were definitely the best team never to have won the World Cup. ~ Alan Hansen. Did you get yours? Yes, I'm still sick & miserable but as sitting at the computer is something I can do for short periods that is what I am doing & I want to know; Did you get yours?
The Sunday Mail is giving away Aussie scarves because, people, the World Cup is only days away now! Yes siree, a month of madness & sleepless nights & my Dearest declaring that it's no wonder there's so much soccer thuggery when it takes so much to score even one goal. Frustration levels obviously go through the roof.
Dearest is a League man & sad to say certain other members of this household create the great divide when the State of Thuggery [oops, State of Origin] happens each year, because Dearest is a N.S.W man & all his children are Queenslanders. It makes the Battle of the Roaches & the Cane Toads something I have absolutely no desire to participate in but soccer! Ah now, soccer is another matter entirely.
I must point out that my addiction to the Beautiful Game is an acquired taste. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me sporty children. He also gave me unco~ordinated runts. No way could I let my small & beautiful children thrash it out in League, or Rugby or AFL ~ though I do believe Theo forged my signature so he could play Union in grade 10. They put him out on the wing where his speed & nippiness was of some use until the big boys just ran straight over the top of him.
That being so soccer was the game of choice ~ & three out of five of mine were very, very good at it. Two were regional reps & the one who wasn't wasn't from choice. Hours I spent watching the kids hone their skills & face off a variety of oppositions but we live on a very little island & back in the day girls didn't play soccer. I fought for Liddy to join the school team. I fought long & hard. Basically I refused to accept the word "No" & the whole QLD Ed., law got changed just for Liddy. The things I am likely to be remembered for!!!
Anyhoo...The kids & I cuddled up together to watch the World Cup teams go down to the wire through our long bleak winter nights armed with hot chocolate, chips & dark bitter chocolate. It has become a family tradition. Even die~hard Dearest takes an interest when Australia steps up to the mark. It happens every 4 years. A bit like the Olympics, only more exciting.
This is serious idolatry on some people's part but my children have educated me well & I can argue off~sides, penalties & questionable tackles with the best of them. Rubbishing the Ref is a legitimate pastime. We have the Refs we like too, the ones who are impartial & fair & play the ball so the game plays fast & zippy without all the stop, start some Refs cause. And we have the teams [besides Australia] we like to watch. Anyone who has watched France or Italy play football understands how it got nick~named the Beautiful Game. We don't like Germany who play stodgy & stolid football. There is no point at all in winning & playing such ugly football. These are arguments never to be heard of other codes.
Dearest finds this four yearly madness a little incomprehensible but he is prepared to join the rest of us & rehash the Italian dive that put us out of the Cup last time & weigh the odds of us defeating Germany in the first round [not good I fear] & whether or not Harry Kewell is worth all the angst & makes that much difference to the team. This is a serious & time consuming business. It is also great fun. After all, we all know the spectators can do it so much better!