WC Memories

Memories

I can recall the World Cup in Spain 1982, being on a remote island off Iceland, where little did I know, but all the women in the house supported Italy ( and I did follow) due to their good looks. I remember Mexico 1986 and how the danes had me seduced, of Italy 1990 I remember little not even sure it was that world cup or the one after, where England beat Holland and my best friend Eva went with England and I just could not understand her, how could she do this to me, when the game finished I could hardly speak to her. Then came 1994 and the ecstasy in Sweden, where I spent the summer, I was kind of glad (or not kind of, but really glad) when Brazil bet them on the way to the finals. The game was shown in a concert venue, which I had made my second home and I must have been the only one cheering the Brazilians. 1998 - hmm, the England Argentina game, I do not like the English national team and felt an instant gratification in the sending off off Beckham, I liked him even less than I do now (whereas now I am rather indifferent towards him). Back to 1986 and the great moment of revenge for the Argentineans, it was to become the start of one of the bitterest rivalries in modern football.
I am not sure of the Argentineans, but the English really do not like them. They are just the opposite of what the English strive to be. And that cheating. I can just recall one friend who actually likes the Argentina team, and who sees the beauty in that hand of god goal. Something which he describes in these words: "There is just something so pure an beautiful about someone with an immense godlike talent who still chooses the way of cheating".
2002 was strange, with a lot of good teams going out in the early stages, there was a sense of hope that Spain would reach fairly far, and I could even sense an optimism from my connections in Catalunya (something rare), but as tradition comes it was not to be that year. I felt so sorry for the Argentinean people and I could almost feel it far too deep, the pain and sorrow of the struggling country who had placed all their future hope on their national team, perhaps it was a burden too much. I was also proud of Rivaldo and Ronaldo (this was before he went to Madrid), this is also where I fell in love with Ronaldinho, he resembled a horse (one of my favourite animals) his grace an cheekiness was seductive and then I even found him sexy. The famous England Brazil game was watched in a cinema where I worked and when Rivaldo scored I jumped up shouting: Goooooooooooooooooooooooolllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course, people told me to shut up.
That World Cup was also the one with marathon breakfasts in bed watching the games, I have to say I enjoyed it much more than being in a drunken pub atmosphere, it even felt intimate and personal.
I got great hope for this one, even if it won't be watched in bed.