Despite being a pathetic football nerd I'll be keeping things pretty World Cup free on these pages, save for the England matches and today was pretty much all about watching them tease us into thinking they were rubbish and incapable of beating even the lowly if heroic Trinidad And Tobago until eventually scoring with seven minutes to go and then sealing it with an amazing goal seconds before the end. People might think that it's impossible to dream of doing well in this competition if we can't score against such a tiny nation in 83 minutes of football, but it's clearly an elaborate and amusing ruse to make other teams think we'll be a walkover until making the game safe at will whenever we want. Yes, that is what's happening. It's not that we were fantastically fortuitous, more that we are masters of guile and deception. Any fool can see that.
If only, if only. There was a frustrated air in The Lion, alleviated with pure relief rather than joy when the ironically named giant Peter Crouch forgot he was supposed to be firing balls high and wide of the goal all afternoon and accidentally powered a header straight in. You could see his annoyance at having hit the target, instead of smacking it yards wide off his shin as he had been doing all afternoon, but then pretended he meant to score all along and accepted the plaudits of fans and fellow players alike. Similarly, Stevie Gerrard had been doing an admirable job of blasting balls several miles over the goal all afternoon to marvellous effect but, in aiming for the back of the crowd in the last minute, accidentally hit his effort far too low and it curled into the goal quite beautifully. He too hid his mistake by smiling and pretending that's what he had intended to do all along.
I'm not worried about England's shortcomings though. It's a grand national tradition to start any tournament looking like amateurs before suddenly playing really well in the latter stages and getting unfairly knocked out on penalties by Germany. It's what the public demand. God help us if the Germans don't knock us out on penalties this year, I don't know how the nation will know how to react. We demand an excuse to moan and cry at our impossible bad luck every four years, it keeps us united, and if we denied this luxury by, say, beating Germany and then progressing to the final, I don't think we'd know how to deal with the disappointment. We'd be all at sea.
It's true that there's an element to the English character that would consider winning the World Cup to be ever so cocky. Ever so out of character.
The bet came off though, I won £100 from Paul because Rooney came on. There'll be another £120 big ones headed my way when he inevitably plays against Sweden too so it's looking to be a good World Cup so far. I'll have paid off the tuxedo soon, and in my inflated opinion the only way to pay for a tux is through winning bets. Unfortunately, I couldn't take a photo of his tearful face for us all to enjoy because he left the pub about twenty minutes into the match, knowing he was for the chop. Don't you worry - he's good for it.
By the way, if you too want to make money from betting instead of working the old 9 to 5, then stick some money on Argentina for this World Cup. To win it outright, I mean. It might seem unpatriotic, but as explained, it would be unpatriotic of any English person to bet against England being knocked out by Germany on penalties (it's what maintains our bitter bond with each other) and so betting on another team to win the World Cup, especially an old 'enemy', is the most patriotic thing you can ever do. You'll be like a big cross between a giant bulldog and Winston Churchill if you bet on Argentina. The nation expects every man and woman to do their duty and be pessimistic about England's chances.
Argentina it is. I'll check the odds and make a bet myself if you can anything in the region of 10/1 or better. I'm watching them play now, smashing goals at will past Serbia. They're great, Argentina. Every English person thinks so.
I took my still unsuccessfully tied bow tie with me to the pub along with an instruction sheet. No-body could manage it until Robbie the barman demonstrated to all us dullards how easy it is with a perfect execution of the art. Thanks to him, I'm now half way there. Apparently the thing to do is practice on your leg.
This afternoon and this evening was one of those great days down the pub. There was an interesting mix of people, the right number, and the conversation was never drab. The coin tricks came out too - that's when you know you're cooking on gas.
I'd quite like to be buried under the floorboards of The Lion when I die. Landlord John might have a few words to say about that but the customer's always right, even after the last call of them all.
Oh, by the way, if you're in the UK buy the latest edition of the now funny again Viz magazine. It's got a pullout of a St George flag to put in the window of your home or car for the duration of England's involvement in the world cup, with a message along the red stripe of the flag which reads 'I'm not a racist, I just want England to win'.
For anyone who's aware of the awkward relationship people in England have with our national flag, that's a beautiful joke.
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