Putting aside recent problems, i thought i would settle down this evening for the big match. England v Italy in the quarter final of Euro 2012.
Big matches like this always help you to leave your problems aside. The hope, the euphoria, the expectation. You know you shouldn't but you can't help but think England may just surprise you and produce a performance of such skill and power it makes the whole country happy. Could it be this year? A semi final versus Germany awaits. Could they do it? Can we dream?
Can we fuck.
What transpired was the most inept, dispiriting gritty performance with the obligatory elimination in a penalty shoot out. They hung in there in the same way as someone who falls out of a boat and clutches a life raft. Words such as 'character', 'courage' & 'spirit' were thrown around, which are just euphemisms for 'shit', 'limited' and 'dull'. #standard
The commentators sounded like Manic depressives who had mislaid their Anti Psychotic drugs and were on an ultra low. They clearly need to up the Prozac levels at the BBC.
England teased for a while, they even forced the Italians to miss a penalty and get into a winning position, making everyone believe fate was on their side. They soon managed to put that one to bed though and fuck up the next two penalties resulting in defeat. Normal service was resumed. Everyone was starting to get far too optimistic.
Still at least it's not a Sunday night and work tomorrow.......f**k, oh and at least i havent got an appointment with a psychiatric unit, Nan's funeral and Pall bearing this week. Triple f*kity f**k f**k.
See i told you all i want to do is swear at the moment. That Gordan Ramsay can go and f*** himself right off.
x
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