This World Cup lark, it’s just a re-occurring headache every four years. I’m watching my seventh England finals effort, and most seem to start depressingly. Maybe it seems worse this time because four years ago, almost uniquely, we breezed through the first stage. The final game against Slovenia coincides with the opening day of Glastonbury, so I’ll probably find myself listening to the Five Live commentary on the car radio whilst stuck in a thirty mile traffic jam.
I watched the USA game on the big screen at the Isle of Wight Festival, and the Algeria game on the sofa at home. The experience was worse tonight. Maybe the England performance was inferior, but having the banter of a few thousand fans to listen to is certainly more uplifting than the commentary of Andy Townsend and Clive Tyldesley. Additionally, on Saturday the crowd quickly moved away back to the Festival stages, whilst tonight I was stuck between the pointless ITV post-match analysis, or eviction night on Big Brother. Gloom.
My World Cup winning run came to a grinding halt last night with a trade on France (Draw No Bet), although I recovered a chunk of my loss back today with a lay of Any Unquoted in the Germany/Serbia correct score market. I may try a similar bet on the Holland/Japan game tomorrow.
To lift the mood, I’ve found one of the highlights from last weekend. Pink isn’t the sort of act I’d normally be drawn to, but the programme write-up promised an exciting spectacle, and she didn’t disappoint, climaxing with this display. The 1970 Isle of Wight festival may have been legendary, but I’m sure no-one on that bill matched this for theatrics.
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