Long night's journey into day.
Thursday
7:00 pm: Soccer practice.
7:30 pm: I quit because my hip is sore. Full recovery will take longer than I had hoped.
9:00 pm: Begin getting ready for bed. Set the alarm for 1:50 am, since USA/Ghana game will be on at 2:00 am.
9:23 pm: Circuit breaker trips, as it is wont to do. We can't run the dryer at the same time as the bedroom heater. I reset the alarm for 1:50, and the time to 9:23.
5:00 am: I wake with a start, and quickly realize that I should have set the clock to 21:23, not 9:23. Nuts. I've been waiting four years to watch Team USA in the cup, and now I've slept through the critical game.
5:02 am: Learn from the internet that the USA lost. Groooaaaannn... Sleeping through it was a mercy.
5:04 am: Switch on the TV, and Australia is already losing 1-0, after the second minute. Groan again...
5:38 am: Australia equalizes! Justified penalty. Australia seems to be dominating.
5:45 am: Halftime. I jump in the shower and quickly ready myself for work.
6:11 am: Croatia goes ahead 2-1, on the softest goal I've seen in the WC so far. This was our replacement keeper, who coach Guus decided to start that day, for some reason. I hate and feel for him.
6:12 am: We only need a tie to advance. For some reason, I just know we're going to do it. So I run down to the tram stop to head down to Federation Square for the action.
6:15 am: Come on, you stupid tram...
6:30 am: Arrive at Federation Square. The cops are preventing any more people from getting in, but you can see the screen from the street. On top of a small set of stairs there are two policemen on horses; squeezing behind them are two guys angling for a better view, essentially standing in a pile of horse dung.
6:34 am: Kewell equalizes! Much jumping and screaming. I timed my run perfectly, as they say.
6:45 am: The barriers come down. We all run up as far as we can go. You'd think it's Texas Hold'em night the way cards are flying on the field.
6:47 am: Game over. Jubilation! People are chanting, singing, lighting flares.
6:50 am-7:30 am: Victory celebration. Fans take over Melbourne's busiest intersection at the corner of Flinders and Swanston. Cops on horses try to move them off, but they keep filling in behind. The trams start to pile up. Fans are singing: AuzZAY! Auzzay Auzzay Auzzaaaay! Auzzaaaaay, Auzzaaaay! Somebody climbs up on a tram, dancing. After fifteen minutes, Guy with a drum starts leading people up the street, in what is now apparently a new tradition (which happened spontaneously after the last match): the victory march to the Parliament building. Sights along the way: People slamming their hands on the windows and doors of the backed-up trams. Somebody climbed atop a phone booth to dance. At the Nike store, there is a window display of Socceroos jerseys; a line of guys got down on their knees and did we-are-not-worthy bows. Fans surround a Chinese guy sweeping the walk in front of his store -- and he starts dancing with them. Somebody climbed on top of a truck and danced as it rolled down the street.
On arriving at the Parliament house, the crowd is already singing "Waltzing Matilda". I hang around for a half hour or so just to soak it all in, and burn off some more of the disappointment at the USA loss. I decide it's time for work.
On the walk to work I decide my traditional American breakfast won't cut it, so I stop for a meat pie.
Thursday
7:00 pm: Soccer practice.
7:30 pm: I quit because my hip is sore. Full recovery will take longer than I had hoped.
9:00 pm: Begin getting ready for bed. Set the alarm for 1:50 am, since USA/Ghana game will be on at 2:00 am.
9:23 pm: Circuit breaker trips, as it is wont to do. We can't run the dryer at the same time as the bedroom heater. I reset the alarm for 1:50, and the time to 9:23.
5:00 am: I wake with a start, and quickly realize that I should have set the clock to 21:23, not 9:23. Nuts. I've been waiting four years to watch Team USA in the cup, and now I've slept through the critical game.
5:02 am: Learn from the internet that the USA lost. Groooaaaannn... Sleeping through it was a mercy.
5:04 am: Switch on the TV, and Australia is already losing 1-0, after the second minute. Groan again...
5:38 am: Australia equalizes! Justified penalty. Australia seems to be dominating.
5:45 am: Halftime. I jump in the shower and quickly ready myself for work.
6:11 am: Croatia goes ahead 2-1, on the softest goal I've seen in the WC so far. This was our replacement keeper, who coach Guus decided to start that day, for some reason. I hate and feel for him.
6:12 am: We only need a tie to advance. For some reason, I just know we're going to do it. So I run down to the tram stop to head down to Federation Square for the action.
6:15 am: Come on, you stupid tram...
6:30 am: Arrive at Federation Square. The cops are preventing any more people from getting in, but you can see the screen from the street. On top of a small set of stairs there are two policemen on horses; squeezing behind them are two guys angling for a better view, essentially standing in a pile of horse dung.
6:34 am: Kewell equalizes! Much jumping and screaming. I timed my run perfectly, as they say.
6:45 am: The barriers come down. We all run up as far as we can go. You'd think it's Texas Hold'em night the way cards are flying on the field.
6:47 am: Game over. Jubilation! People are chanting, singing, lighting flares.
6:50 am-7:30 am: Victory celebration. Fans take over Melbourne's busiest intersection at the corner of Flinders and Swanston. Cops on horses try to move them off, but they keep filling in behind. The trams start to pile up. Fans are singing: AuzZAY! Auzzay Auzzay Auzzaaaay! Auzzaaaaay, Auzzaaaay! Somebody climbs up on a tram, dancing. After fifteen minutes, Guy with a drum starts leading people up the street, in what is now apparently a new tradition (which happened spontaneously after the last match): the victory march to the Parliament building. Sights along the way: People slamming their hands on the windows and doors of the backed-up trams. Somebody climbed atop a phone booth to dance. At the Nike store, there is a window display of Socceroos jerseys; a line of guys got down on their knees and did we-are-not-worthy bows. Fans surround a Chinese guy sweeping the walk in front of his store -- and he starts dancing with them. Somebody climbed on top of a truck and danced as it rolled down the street.
On arriving at the Parliament house, the crowd is already singing "Waltzing Matilda". I hang around for a half hour or so just to soak it all in, and burn off some more of the disappointment at the USA loss. I decide it's time for work.
On the walk to work I decide my traditional American breakfast won't cut it, so I stop for a meat pie.
