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humper dreams 

could ronaldo be the next big thing?

6/17/2018

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Here we go, here we go, here we go! (Repeat as necessary). 

The World Cup has only gone and ruddy kicked off hasn’t it! Oh boy, it is really rather swell. 

On Thursday morning I ran a blistering 5k. Three Lions roared through the headphones. I had more goosebumps than RL Stine! In fact, I’ve started listening to multiple football songs. I hope the other people in my block don’t think I’ve become too nationalistic as they hear me repeatedly shout ‘England!’ as I continue to sing Vindaloo over and over in my small head. 

Re-e-wind to Thursday and I thoroughly enjoyed Russia’s rout of Saudi Arabia. I particularly enjoyed it when Clive Tydesley decided Russia had wrapped up all three points after about 80 minutes and four goals, when to a superfootballexpertpundit like me, it was bleedingly obvious from minute twelve. 

Sweeping into Friday, I was Fernando Gagging for another game. I missed a couple of scintillating 0-1s as I was moulding young minds, as per usual. So I didn’t catch a game until 7pm. But, phwoar, wasn’t she a good’un? 

That Ronaldo appears to be quite the player. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see him light up the world stage time and again in future. And by golly wouldn’t he look splendid in amber and chocolate? Interestingly, I watched the first half on a MacBook in a reputable local beer garden. Shuffled inside for the second half on a moderately-sized flatscreen TV. #facts Others went for burgers at the interval; I don’t think there’s a pattie in the world that could have rivalled this Iberian romp!

Woke up at the weekend, feeling a shade groggy, as if I’d been clipped on the noggin by a Nacho piledriver. As it was, I only had Carling to blame, not a Spanish full back named after a great, but often poorly executed bar snack. Not to worry! Football was on its way again!

Me and my homeboys, sorry, my homeboys and I, rolled down to the cricket club to watch game 1 on this Football Marathon. France vs Australia, or Kronenbourg vs Fosters, as some pundits billed it. I ate pains au chocolat (breads of chocolate) during the game, which perhaps influenced the outcome in the French favour. VAR got a real good outing. Debate raged -like a Scottish arts fire- about its use. People had lots of opinions for sure. #mysteryopinions

After this game of Socceroos against Soccerchoux, I had to do some other things. Like cricket. In fact, the things were so similar to cricket, I would, on second thoughts, just call it cricket. I cricketed. 

Missed some of the footer because of all that cricket of course. After a sudbursting shower though, it was time for Croatia vs Nigeria. I bet on corners for the first time in my life. Oh the thrill! I had gone wild and staked a not inconsiderable £4.71. I cheered each deflected cross and shot like a backbench Tory MP at an upskirting exhibition, funded by money recouped from the blasted EU. 

And there were more corners than at the Müller factory, but sadly I’d twinned it with a Nigerian goal, and they were absolutely hopeless in kicking it towards that netted area of the pitch. I felt a bit sad that I lost my money, perhaps I need to seek some expert advice. Anyone have any suggestions? On the plus side, Channel 5 aired a cracking documentary on astounding TV talent show moments. Check that out via their catch up facilities. 

To Sunday, and there was yet more football. It’s more like a World Jug than a mere Cup! Hahahaha. Lol. If you had to compare other tournaments to a variety of receptacles, what would you choose? The Carabao Demitasse anyone?! Lol again. 

The Germans didn’t do too well. Big pressure on their next game and the fate of my big night out on Düsseldorf hinges on the result. I hope Joachim Löw uses this to motivate his troops. And victory also eluded my pre-tournament tips Brazil.  The Daddies of World Cup football had clearly had one too many Old Speckled Hen on Father’s Day as they weren’t as tasty as they had looked on many FIFA games prior to the Jug. 

Speaking of which, that Jug begins its journey home tomorrow. Come on ENG-ER-LAND! 7pm tomorrow. Wonder how they’ll reschedule The One Show...
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    Author

    Name: Will Humphries
    Age: 27, and counting
    Occupation: Teacher
    Action: Right arm over
    Guilty pleasure: Carling
    Hero: Murakami

    I used to love football. I used to get excited about purchasing two season old Sunderland away strips in JJB sports when I was a kid. I played Football Manager relentlessly; Anthony Vanden Borre was my virtual hero. 

    But the magic has gone. I cling desperately to my 90s/00s obscure football knowledge even though boxing, books and booze have replaced Boksic, the Bernabeu and Borthwick-Jackson. 

    Besides a recent love affair with my local Sutton United, only dying embers of my passion remain. Will this World Cup reignite them into a blaze of footballing fervour? Or will the ash settle in Russia, for the very last time.

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