Thursday, May 26, 2005
I'm not a big one for such an abstract concept as destiny. It's not a word you'd find very often in my speech. But in the last couple of months it's been cropping up quite a bit.
Last night was destiny fulfilled. Three nil down at half time. People left the pub and went home, disgruntled. We were horror struck. How could it go so wrong? How could Rafa get it so wrong? Then came the second half. Andrew Sull defiantly stated it wasn't all over yet and how right he was. Eight minutes in, Stevie Gerrard rised up in the area to meet a Jon Arne Riise cross and bang! We were back in it. Six minutes later and, thanks to Vladimir Smicer and a Xabi Alonso penalty, we were all level. After that they threw everything they had at us and we absorbed it all. Jamie Carragher was everywhere, it seemed. Jerzy Dudek put in possibly the finest performance of his career. The match went to extra-time and Milan dominated. We were all on the verge of having a banger. Then three minutes left in extra time, Shevchenko was through on goal. Shevchenko, supposedly the best striker in the world, against a keeper who has been consistently slated all season. Two, not one, two(!) magnificent reflex saves. My eyes came out on stalks. That was it. We knew then that we'd won it. Nothing could go against us now. The match went to penalties and while we were still on edge, we knew we'd already won. It was our destiny. It had been written in the stars. It was pre-ordained. Liverpool F.C. are the kings of Europe once again. We drank, we sang and we danced in the street. My throat is dry, my mouth hurts from smiling, there's some nasty bastard dancing a jig in my head and I didn't see my bed till gone five in the morning. I couldn't be happier. To top it all, at the end of the night a very pretty little blonde lass told me I was nice; twice - albeit just before she ran off to find her boyfriend. It didn't matter, the sentiment was enough. Last night was magic.
8 Comments:
Have you ever actually been in Liverpool Bif?
And which street, Bif, did you actually dance on? And was it a waltz, a tango or a good old jig?
Hi Bif,
Blonde Girl here! Just to set you straight on what I actually said to you the other night.
I said You're MICE! Not NICE! Didn't you notice the whole fucking city was covered with them on wednesday night? They all crawled out of the woodwork and wore red shirts! I bet the rodents would have been in blue had Chelsea been in the final!
By the way, my boyfriend is 8ft tall and hates you.
Love, Blondie
KOORVA!
Jersy
So many comments.
No I've never been to Liverpool but we have these things called televisions and when I was young I saw Liverpool playing on one. I've been a fan ever since. If you wish to some how apply some logical argument as to why I shouldn't support them, I'd just like to point out that we're talking about 22 men kicking a ball around a patch of grass. It kind of defies logic anyway. I'm also a big supporter of Cork City FC, as it happens.
There were lots of streets involved but I was probably overstating when I called it dancing.
Oddly enough this isn't the first time I've been compared to a mouse.
I don't know what Koorva means or even what language it is but it is a great word.
In Poland, we say KOORVA! instead of FUCK!
Jerzy
FUCK KINGS !!!!!!!!
CRACOVIA CRACOV FOREWER :P
Anonymous said: "In Poland we say KOORVA!
instewad of FUCK! - Jerzy"
He/she/it is close - but NO CIGAR!! The word "Koorva" means "WHORE" as in the expression "Koorva tvoya mama!" meaning either "Whoreson" OR "Your mother is a whore!"
I guess that in Poland they do not differentiate too much betwen nouns and verbs!
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