Footie

There was singing, that's what drew me in. Then there were all these swearing, cursing, and chanting. And finally, there were crestfallen faces. All inside two hours. Watching a world cup match in a crowded pub, overflowing with England fans, was pretty exciting. The whole nation was on the edge for this quarterfinal match. You could see it on the faces of the people gathered inside the pub. The atmosphere was eletricfying.

I guzzled up three pints of beer during the match. Started with a lager, then had two different ales. All in effort to get inebriated. A drunken mind enjoys the surrounding more. You can take all the swearing and laugh it off. You can do it yourself. And, you can support a nation that isn't yours. Alcohol alway helps.

In the cramped pub, I watched the first half stranded between two tall English fans. They sang, and told everybody to sing. They cursed, and shook hands with me, when I got an elbow from one of them, while he was trying to clap. It was all good-natured though.

I escaped from them in the second half, and watched in agony has England went one player down. Rooney’s sending off made the place erupt. Abuses were hurled at the Portuguese players, England's opponent, the umpire got his fair share. After that, it never quieted down.

Someone called one of the Portuguese player poof, for going down so easily. That's football fans for you. Another pleaded with his own players not to concede any goals. The English players seem to respond and played heroically. That prompted the whole crowd to sing their national anthem. It was war happening out there, and these fans were supporting their heroes well.

Then came the dreaded penalty, with no goals scored in the entire play. When the English players stepped up to shot, the crowd sang their names. When the Portuguese came forward, abuses naturally followed. But after three misses, when England lost, the place resonated stunned silence. Only the sound of match commentary, unheard throughout the match, filtered through.

Soon, the crowd filed out of the pub in droves.

I wanted England to win, but I wasn't as disconsolate as the others. I moved on. Brazil was playing next, and I went to a Brazilian bar to watch the match.

The atmosphere was more relaxing there. The bar was playing Salsa music in the background. People were dancing as well as watching the match. And gorgeous girls flooded the place. I enjoyed this place more, I have to admit. And even though Brazil too lost, and I saw more crestfallen faces, the Brazilians I thought took it more lightly. They partied until the wee hours of morning to shake off their disappointment. I partied with them.

Overall, though the results went against the teams I supported, I enjoyed the day.