Omg, guys! I've just been completely sucked in by this night's Spain/Italy match. Forget about nail-biting, this was full-on chew your fingers off and get started on the forearms. So. Tense. No goals - none - the entire match, although Spain had like a dozen or more almost-goals (Italy a few less). And then there was the prologa - um, extension** - and still no goals. So we go to freaking penalities or PKP*** and I was just - zomg. Gah! And then we score, and they score, and then some more scoring and all the while I'm just standing there in the Bad Habits pub with Elisa, surrounded by smoke and Spaniards, Italians and your occasional Other Nationality, neck aching from staring at the closest of five - five - screens, my hands inching up over my chin, mouth, and then nose like it's some sort of horror movie and I'm just thinking, "Come on, Casillas, you beautiful boy****, be the awesome goalie you know you are." And then we won! 4-2! We won! I say again, we won! We had to wait until the very last penalty, but we won! Oh, the relief! The shaking knees!
I'm so excited and happy and I don't even care about football!
And omg, we play Russia next. Russia! They were scary-good yesterday! (However, we did beat them already. *firm nod*)
* Spain up against 88 years of curses, omens: History firmly on Italy's side by Bob Lenarduzzi
** My knowledge of football terms is mainly limited to spanish, alas.
*** It's what Elisa calls it.
**** Born 1981. "Boy" it is.
I'm so excited and happy and I don't even care about football!
And omg, we play Russia next. Russia! They were scary-good yesterday! (However, we did beat them already. *firm nod*)
* Spain up against 88 years of curses, omens: History firmly on Italy's side by Bob Lenarduzzi
** My knowledge of football terms is mainly limited to spanish, alas.
*** It's what Elisa calls it.
**** Born 1981. "Boy" it is.