Sunday 2nd June 2002
 Missed the opening
ceremony due to previous engagements. I hear good old
sticky-fingers had a hard time delivering his speech - anyone
video it? Managed to get to the pub a few minutes into the
first match, the result was a foregone conclusion, 3-0 to
France. But hold on, shock horror! Senegal did the
unthinkable, and suddenly Les Bleus became Les Blah-blah-blah!
That garlic sandwich doesn’t taste so good now, does
it?
 Watched Saturday’s
games on TV with a few pals and a few pints. Wee Ronnie
McRonnie, the born-again Paddy, had gone to the Ireland game
in Niigata. During a shot of the crowd, we caught sight
of his best (and only true) friend, an eight-foot stuffed
Kermit. Kermit appeared to be sitting upon a gnarled old
tree stump, but there was no sign of Ronnie. The Irish
deserved the draw, and it was great to see Keane selflessly
giving his all for his country.
The Denmark v Uruguay
game was much more entertaining – great goal from
Rodriguez, didn’t care who won, though, so long as someone
did, further reducing the chances of Kermit’s Gallic
relatives. As for the game between Germany and Riyadh Middle
School, the Saudis obviously didn’t realise that “a gold
bar for every goal scored” only applied to goals that
they scored!
 Woke up on Sunday, a
tad hung-over, and shouted through to my wife: “What time is
it?”
“3.15.”
“3.15?! I was supposed to meet Dave at two
o’clock!” I jumped out of bed, checked the clock, and
without so much as a look at the soap, started togging
up. After repeatedly grilling Yuki as to why she hadn’t
woken me earlier, she looked at me, rather confused, pointing
out that the first train wasn't until 5.40. I went back to bed
and vowed to get myself a 24-hour clock (and her some
sleeping pills)!
 At the second attempt
I managed to get out of my pit and set off to Saitama for the
England v Sweden game. Caught the train, full of anxiety,
but fairly confident we could pull something out of
the bag. Got there no trouble, there was a real carnival
atmosphere along the approach to the fantastic,
brand-spanking-new stadium. Once inside it became plainly
obvious that the England support was ten times that of Sweden.
More precisely, judging by the shirts, the Beckham and Owen
support was ten times that of Sweden.
 Twenty-four minutes
into the match the stadium erupted, from a left-hand
corner. Beckham bent it like, er, Beckham to plant
one nicely on Campbell's head, Campbell duly nutted a
powerful ball past Hedman for the opener. Unfortunately that
was England's sole goal of the game. The lads put in a
solid performance in the first half, but disappointed terribly
in the second. After being given a roasting during the break,
the Swedes took on a completely different flavour in the
second half, peppering Seaman’s goal with a few tasty
shots and several near-misses. We can be thankful to
have held out for the draw, and even more thankful
that Celtic's Henrik Larsson was denied the killer blow.
Put your asti spumante back in the fridge, Ronnie, we live
to fight another day!
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