‘the single best thing about the whole game was the Algeria fans, they were so loud, it was ace, I wish i could be Algerian’ – Paul P. Cosgrove.
Well that was a crock of poo really wasn’t it. Shame, because Friday was a great day, apart from the 92 mins I spent in the Green Point Stadium in Cape Town with 60,000 other England fans.
The day had all the earmarks of one to remember.
Firstly I went round to the apartment of my friend who had our tickets for the game, and the laborer who was working outside told me they had left. ‘It’s ok, i’ll just wait for him to come back, probably nipped out for milk or something’
2 hours later, still no friend. Fortunately a kind English neighbour of his called Geoff (who I suspect may have made his cash from the Gay porn industry, if his life sized pictures of big naked black men hanging in his house are anything to go by) found me out on the street and plied me with beers for the remaining two hours until my friends returned. It wasn’t that I was freaking out, it’s just I had no way to contact my friends, who’s American mobile (I didn’t have the number too) I had assumed didn’t work because mine didn’t.
Anyway, 3 beers with the Cape Town Prince of Porn, and he showed up in his little rental car. I literally hurdled the gate I assume Geoff had installed to keep people in, and ran down the street to make sure he didn’t miss me.
Ticket situation resolved I headed out with my friends to the fan fest to join a few dozen other Americans almost grasp victory from the jaws of certain defeat. Well played Slovenia. Shame on you ref.
It amused me no end that my American friends thought that one particular ref had given all the decisions against them, whilst the others had been on the Americans side. He was quite surprised when I explained that there was only one ref, which is why he felt the injustice.
Anyways, after the game we left the fan park and walked down the awesome fan mile. It was an awesome combination of vuvuzela stalls, kebab shops and glowstick peddlers. You couldn’t help but feel that this had sadly been corporatized by FIFA, and it would have been even better had craftsman and locals from the townships had had the oppurtunity to selll their wears and profit a little from it. The Rhodes were closed and all the bars had people pouring out of them. Some excited for the game we were on our way to see, some Drunk and/or English.
The stadium itself was one of the finest I have ever seen. Eye catching, simple in it’s layout and construction, not a bad seat in the house. And it had none of the annoying rules that so curse English and American Stadia these days. Opposite fans were allowed to mingle, you could drink in the stands, smoke on the stairwells and beers were R30 (3 quid or 4 bucks depending on your persuasion).
The game itself was the biggest pile of toss I have seen. And i was there when Steve ‘the wally with the brolly’ McLaren, guided us successfully out of the qualifiers for Euro2008.
The team (as it has all in the build up to the game) lacked shape and cohesion. Rooney was a shadow of his former self, and the term Donkey really isn’t harsh enough for the waste of space that is Emile Heskey. Capello should have wrapped Rooney in Cotton wool, and let Crouch and Defoe have his way with the group stages, rolling a fresh Rooney out for the tougher tasks ahead.
Fortunately, all memories of the horror show in the stadium were ruled out by another 5 hours of drinking and dancing after. First in a quite awesome Lesbian club right on the fan mile underneath the Village, and then on until 3am at the Cape Town house of toss garage music. (By this point I would have danced to my own funeral march)
Sufficed to say, I had a great first match day in Cape Town, now if only I coul dtake Paul’s suggestion, take some pride in my team, and become Algeria for the next 3 weeks.
ps great to see the Florida Marlins giving out free vuvuzelas on Saturday and it costing them the game. Can’t wait for the Giants to try that.