Football Fever

"Arrrrggghhhh, I can't stand it! I - want - to - watch - the -
game!!" exclaims One.

"You think *I* don't?" Two sighs. "This is agony, man?"

"Wish Pn Wong would let us out early," wishes One.

"As if!" says Three, regretfully.

Four fidgets and looks at the clock. "Cannot stand it lah! Must
watch!"

"I'm also dying to watch it lah - not only you," says Two.

"Maybe she will you know? Just ask and see," suggests One.

"You ask then!" says Three.

Such was the general atmosphere in the Biology lab on Friday, 22nd of
June, 2002, before Form 5 Science's extra Biology lesson. It was THE
MATCH for my friends and I: Brazil versus England.

Since the first week of the World Cup 2002, my class was divided into
three groups - pro-England, anti-England and
I-don't-really-watch-football. Under the anti-England group you could
find supporters of various other teams like Italy, Spain, Brazil,
Japan, Korea, Senegal and Argentina (my personal favourite!); with
Spain, Italy and Argentina being generally favoured, if I remember
rightly.
Our dislike of the England squad was mostly fuelled by the enthusiasm
of the smaller pro-England group, who would insist on extolling the
virtues of players like Michael Owen and David Beckham - poor deluded
souls. *wink*

When England (annoyingly enough) progressed past the first group stage,
our hopes went to Denmark to kick them out of the tournament. But
Denmark failed us, and so our hopes were transferred to Brazil,
England's quarterfinal opponents.

The game was scheduled for 2.30p.m., June 22. And it so happened that
we were to have an extra Biology lesson that same day until
3.00p.m.!

It's not easy to describe how we felt, stuck in the Bio lab, as The
Match drew ever closer. It was? Agony. Not physical pain, but it was
more like sheer exasperation and tension from hoping and hoping and
just hoping that Brazil would teach England a good lesson.

You can just imagine our delight when our teacher did in fact agree to
end the class at 2.30 so that we could go and watch the game. (Four of
my friends were to come to my home immediately after to watch it on
television. So the five of us were the most delighted of all.)

At 2.15, I could almost feel the excitement build - especially where I
sat with my good friends, mostly eager about the match. It didn't help
my concentration when at 2.25, one of my friends turned around &;
whispered, "Yuin! They're singing the national anthems now!!"

Our teacher finished only at 2.35 or so, increasing our 'agony'. It
took us less than five minutes to pack our things and be out of the
school gate. When we arrived at my home, it was 2.45 - we'd only missed
fifteen minutes. Since no goals had happened yet, it wasn't too
bad.

Then Owen's goal came. Of the five of us, only one was an ardent
England (and Michael Owen) supporter. She rejoiced. The rest of us?
Well, you know.

Rivaldo's goal revitalised us and later Ronaldinho's miracle goal from
30 metres out simply drove us nuts. England looked so? Lost. Much to
our utmost glee, of course.

Did you ever think girls could be so football mad?