Alf's World Cup
So, here I am on a course in Washington, DC. The England v. Uruguay match is happening on Thursday. There is no chance of an early finish. I make sure everyone knows, my UK colleagues, our team members from Ottawa, and our US trainers we DO NOT WANT TO KNOW THE SCORE. Only one other UK colleague wants to see the game but doubts whether he can restrain himself from checking the score.
3pm comes. Kick off. I close my BBC tab on Firefox. I do not know know the score. Half times passes. I resist the urge. We get to 5pm and we still have things to cover. It's all over now. I do not know the score.
I have checked the TV schedules. One of the ESPN channels is reshowing the match at 10pm.
We meet in the hotel foyer. There are the midweek freebie beers. I sit perpendicular to the hotel TVscreen. No-one tells me the score. Four of us go to dinner. I have two TV screens to avoid. One colleague, my fellow footie enthusiast, has not returned from his mall run. He could be tired. He could be too traumatised to join us for a post-meal ale. I still don't know the score.
Look, you know what's coming. Just feel my pain.
Our Canadian colleagues walk past our restaurant window and fail to see us but obviously going to the next door establishment; there is nothing else beyond.
My UK colleagues are uninterested, maybe even disinterested, in the football. It's 9.30pm , they head home, I head next door to intercept the Canadians. Wahey, there is at least one who wants to watch the footie. We all head to the Oirish Bar nearby.
I still do not know the score.
We order beers. I ask if we can get the England game. I know it's on one of the ESPN channels. At 10pm. It's 10pm. The TV screen, one of many in the bar, remains, unchanged. One of the Canadians goes to the bar to enquire. The barman gets the flicker out and changes channels. He finds ESPN2 showing "World Cup 2014". This does not look promising. There is no football, just talking heads. Then there is a clip of Suarez, diving to the ground celebrating a goal.
""Uruguay 2-1 England.
Oh, FFS, you could not make it up.
The shame, I even ended up drinking Bud Lite. And introducing a Canadian colleague to the word "clunge".
I didn't get to see the match. I even short changed the barmaid when, given two $5 bills for a a $10 note, I forgot to add the $5 to the bill. She took it well.
And I have to rely on Balotelli to save our bacon. Twice.
3pm comes. Kick off. I close my BBC tab on Firefox. I do not know know the score. Half times passes. I resist the urge. We get to 5pm and we still have things to cover. It's all over now. I do not know the score.
I have checked the TV schedules. One of the ESPN channels is reshowing the match at 10pm.
We meet in the hotel foyer. There are the midweek freebie beers. I sit perpendicular to the hotel TVscreen. No-one tells me the score. Four of us go to dinner. I have two TV screens to avoid. One colleague, my fellow footie enthusiast, has not returned from his mall run. He could be tired. He could be too traumatised to join us for a post-meal ale. I still don't know the score.
Look, you know what's coming. Just feel my pain.
Our Canadian colleagues walk past our restaurant window and fail to see us but obviously going to the next door establishment; there is nothing else beyond.
My UK colleagues are uninterested, maybe even disinterested, in the football. It's 9.30pm , they head home, I head next door to intercept the Canadians. Wahey, there is at least one who wants to watch the footie. We all head to the Oirish Bar nearby.
I still do not know the score.
We order beers. I ask if we can get the England game. I know it's on one of the ESPN channels. At 10pm. It's 10pm. The TV screen, one of many in the bar, remains, unchanged. One of the Canadians goes to the bar to enquire. The barman gets the flicker out and changes channels. He finds ESPN2 showing "World Cup 2014". This does not look promising. There is no football, just talking heads. Then there is a clip of Suarez, diving to the ground celebrating a goal.
""Uruguay 2-1 England.
Oh, FFS, you could not make it up.
The shame, I even ended up drinking Bud Lite. And introducing a Canadian colleague to the word "clunge".
I didn't get to see the match. I even short changed the barmaid when, given two $5 bills for a a $10 note, I forgot to add the $5 to the bill. She took it well.
And I have to rely on Balotelli to save our bacon. Twice.
posted by Alf the Unlucky at 5:39 am
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