The Dutch are a feisty bunch though aren’t they? I wonder why that is? I’ve known a few Pastry Eaters in my time and they have almost, to the man, been complete nutcases, especially on the football field.
One I knew quite well carried a baseball bat in his car to football matches he was due to play in, just in case things got ‘tasty’. He also took great delight in telling me all about the latest pornographic emails he would get at work which would get through the work mail sweeper because they were written in Dutch.
Perhaps it’s the marijuana in the Daddy’s semen that fertilises the Mummy’s egg, or the hypnotic effect of all those bloody windmills turning over and over...
Anyhoo. Until this morning the Oranje hadn’t lost an international game in 24 matches and the Spanish only twice in the last two years, one of which was at this tournament, so there was an air of inevitability around proceedings I thought.
I did, of course, pick Spain in an earlier blog and had the remarkable fortitude to have them in not one, but two sweepstakes, which given that I ran them both has cast a few eyebrows around these parts. God only knows why.
Must I reiterate again that the sweepstake fixing scandal of 1998 is long forgotten and I went to great efforts to ensure that the ‘lost entry’ scandal of that particular competition was not to repeat itself some 12 years later. Besides, it was all Sully’s doing anyway in 98. He’ll deny it, of course, but it was no coincidence that he and I pocketed some of the winnings that year.
But what a strange old tournament it’s been, what with players being sent home (Anelka of France), goals that weren’t given (Lampard of England) and some that were (Tevez vs Mexico). Talk of over inflated balls and the crazy goalkeeping it produced, four South American teams making the quarters but then none the final and them vuvuzelas. Oh them fucking vuvuzelas.
New Zealand were there of course, drawing all three games and as that idiot Martin Devlin kept telling us at every possible opportunity, right up till the final minute of TVNZs coverage no less, remained the only unbeaten team at the World Cup.
He’s quite correct of course, but a fact that would be made all the more impressive if that extended to seven games and not just the three in pool play before the flight home. Not that that will stop anyway from wheeling that little gem out at every opportunity. Look for that trivia question on Tui stubby caps any day soon.
As the interest of competing nations dropped off at the demise of their teams thus increased the excitement over a certain mollusc, Paul the Octopus, picking results, primarily of Ze Germans but once The Hun was eliminated, of the final too. It was so exciting sometimes you almost forgot there was football to be played at the end of it all.
But at the end of the day football was the winner and not just in Spain where they’ll be partying like they’ve won the World Cup for the first time (which they have), which will make for a nice break from the real estate market collapse which is threatening to bring the country to its knees financially.
For us football fans on this side of the world it will be back to a full night’s sleep and nothing to whack off to in the shower before work anymore other than Pippa Wetzell on Breakfast.
It’s quite the comedown, is going cold turkey after four weeks of quality football, so don’t be surprised if a football fan near you starts to go a bit emo over the next few weeks. At least until the Premiership starts in a few weeks time.
Now, what am I going to do with $75 cash and twelve chocolate bars....
The Pastry Eaters left their mark on Spain, but not the trophy...
...we wouldn't mind playing Dutch Ovens with some of their fans though.
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