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ezine at l'atelier bonita
established since december 2002
Ah, Memories!
(WALES V. RUSSIA - EURO 2004 QUALIFYING PLAY-OFF, 2003) by Joanna Browning [Very big sigh!] It's not even as if we played badly or anything. Okay, so. I left work nice and early yesterday afternoon, to prepare for the game, but before anyone says 'what a generous boss' I should point out that I had in fact booked the entire afternoon off, but we were short-staffed and ... well. I finally got away at 3, and as I walked up-river past the Millennium Stadium towards the parents' house I was slightly perturbed to see TV crews already setting up, 4 and a half hours before kick-off. Little Sister had netball practice after school, and then had a friend coming for tea, because 7 year olds have such active social lives. At the school while waiting for said children to appear I had a very deep and meaningful conversation with her friend's father on the oh-so important subject of 'how to get tickets for Wales matches'. Being on the FAW mailing list is vital. Kids appeared and were whisked home for food, and friend was shuttled off home quick-smart. My mother then handed me a token from the local newspaper and £3 and said, with this token and £3 you can get a 5 foot flag! Okay, thanks mum. ![]() By the time Small and I met up with my Scottish friend who comes to all the games with me, Small had acquired said 5 foot flag and a nice noisy hooter to go with the hat, scarf and small flag she already had. We headed to the game. Our seats were excellent. Row 3 of the family enclosure, a mere 20 yards from the corner flag. Excellent. ![]() Kick off. The first thing that happened was that all the telephone networks overloaded and crashed, preventing my anxious Scottish friend finding out what was happening in Holland. Minutes into the game I had a horrible thought - what if it goes to extra time? Little'Un has school in the morning ... can I get away with keeping her out that late? Then Darren Barnard blatantly shoved a Russian attacker all of 25 yards from where I was sitting. Idiot. ![]() ![]() Little'Un spent most of the first half hitting people on the head with her flag (the small one ![]() Back ![]() Shortly after the re-start the massed ranks of Welsh fans started to call for Earnie, aka Cardiff's Robert Earnshaw. Just minutes later the pint-sized striker appeared on the touchline. Alas, he failed to make any kind of breakthrough, but after a few good runs Small was seriously considering abandoning her hero Ryan Giggs in his favour. ![]() Throughout the game, Wales tried hard, and put the Russians under periods of sustained pressure, but were unable to find that cutting edge up front. Giggs hit the bar; Speed headed just wide. Other than Barnard's costly error, the defence were solid. Danny Gabidon at one point dispossessed a Russian inside the box just in front of me, and dribbled the ball past another onrushing Russian before clearing. My entire section let out an audible mass gasp of mingled admiration and horror. The game ended 0-1. The Russians celebrated; the Welsh players were crushed. I found myself longing to rush onto the pitch to give them a comforting hug, but restrained this since the police would likely take a dim view of such behaviour. Plus, they were all at the opposite end of the pitch and I wasn't sure I could run that far. For all the booing of the Russians, as we filtered out of the ground the atmosphere was more philosophical than anything. Welsh fans have been long conditioned to defeat. With an eye to Christmas, Small wanted to know if she had been 'on the good side', unaware how much she sounded like something out of Star Wars. And yes, yes she had. 73,000 people surging along the roads, yet we had no trouble spotting my father to hand over the tired Little'Un. On the way home, we realised that Wales' recent run of poor home results has coincided with the substitution of Tom Jones' Delilah for the Beatles' Hey Jude as half time entertainment. Conspiracy theorists will have to conduct further research before drawing any firm conclusions. Friend was by now frantic about the Scotland result ... Got home and put the TV straight on. Holland 6 Scotland 0. Now that is just depressing. So England will be the sole representatives of Britain in Portugal next summer. How sad. I will have to rely on Italy. Hopefully we will get a few good friendly games next year to settle everyone down again. France would be nice. I'd like to see Zidane before he retires. And Lizarazu because he's got a funky name. And Henry, and the rest. And then in the autumn the qualification roundabout starts up again. World Cup 2006, anyone? ©2004 Joanna Browning ____________ Joanna Browning was born in Wales in 1977, and still lives there. After graduating from Cardiff University with a joint degree in History and Welsh History, she drifted through a variety of different jobs before landing at her present position in the voluntary sector. She has a wide range of hobbies and interests, among them being the beautiful game of football, which she discovered at the impressionable age of 13 via the World Cup Italia '90, and has been hooked ever since. |
ONCE
UPON
a TIME
ezine at l'atelier bonita
established
since december 2002