Read World Cup Dreams Page 3


  The ball fell just in front of Martin Truman who darted onto it, determination furrowed into every line on his aging face. He did not have the pace to beat defenders but the young Freddie Burns did and overlapped his colleague with speed that would make a sprinter blush. The ball was thread through the eye of a needle, dissecting two defenders as Burns ran on to it. He was too fast for the opposition and was out wide on the edge of the box in a matter of seconds. A defender had almost burst a blood vessel to get back but rather than go round him Burns cut back and rolled the ball to George Weston on the edge of the area.

  Without looking up, as if he had a psychic connection with the striker, Weston chipped the ball into the box. With few of the opposition able to keep pace with the counterattack, Daniel Smith was left completely unmarked. The header was not necessarily well placed but Smith had put his whole body behind it and the sheer power and pace of the shot beat the goalkeeper.

  As the net rippled the stadium erupted into a crescendo of cheers. Colourful fans that had been sitting in trepidation only a few moments before were screaming at the top of their voice, dancing up and down and waving flags. This was a great goal, a goal the team had worked together to produce. From excellent defending and great hold up play, to wonderful pace, the ball had moved from defence into the back of the net in less than a minute. This is how they knew they would win the game, as a team and, as a team, they now celebrated this small slice of glory, one important segment of a much more important match.

  Day 15 – 26/06/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Group G

  Group G Final Standings

  Group H

  Group H Final Standings

  Two Games At Once

  The remote control will be worn out soon. The buttons to the two channels pressed every few minutes such are my nerves. It is the last group game and we need the other match as a draw whilst we win by two goals. It will be tough but we can do it, we can get through the group and move our performances on. Everytime I switch channels my eyes automatically dart to the top left hand corner of the screen. What is the score? How long is left? Mathematical calculations run through my head, just incase a goal goes against up. I know there is no other way of qualifying but still I think like this.

  I wince as a ball flies wide of our goal, that could have been it, all over, we would need three then. The ball is out of play, just enough time to catch a few seconds of the other game. Nothing much happening there, looking good for a draw therefore it is all down to us. I flick back, someone is lying on floor. Who does he play for? What has happened? I hope we are not getting someone sent off. Oh, it is our player, he best not be injured. Few, he is not, it was just a coming together of two players.

  And so it continues, click goes the remote, the channel changes. Nothing happening. Click goes the remote, the channel changes. I can’t eat, I can barely focus, the butterflies in my stomach are doing somersaults. Still it remains nil nil in both games, still there is some hope.

  Ten minutes to go, I am on the other channel. I flick back to our game, there are cheers, there are celebrations. Someone has scored, but who? It is us, we have done it, we have a goal, we can do this. But, wait, I missed it. Must watch the replay, I am bored of the celebrations, just get on with it. I see the goal in slow motion, it was a scrappy affair but it does not matter, they all count. Now the nerves are tenfold but the belief is matching it. Teams have come from this position to qualify before, they will do again. I hope my team are part of this potted history.

  We are near the end of the game, still one nil. We are pushing hard, everytime the ball goes out of play we restart quickly. I don’t have time to flick over to the other game, I don’t know what is happening. What if there is a goal? What if I am dreaming for nothing? My curiosity gets the better of me. As soon as I am on the other channel the net bulges, oh no, we have lost all right at the end. No, it was the side netting, it just looked like a goal.

  Deep into injury time, still one nil to us. We are still attacking, they have everyone back behind the ball. We whip a cross in, a powerful header. Just over the top. It is a goal kick, I am about to turn over when I hear the commentator say the other game has finished nil nil. Just one goal, please, just one goal. I pray to the God of Football, I hope he is on my side. The ball is hoofed forward but we get it back. The build up is too slow, we don’t have time for intricate passing. We have had the allotted injury time but there may be one more attack. Up goes the ball, our striker is about to get there, he is going to head it in. No, the goalkeeper plucks it from the air, practically off his forehead. There are massive cheers from the opposition fans, surely that it is, but still I believe we could have one more chance. Alas, no. As the keeper punts the ball upfield the referee blows his whistle. It was a heroic effort, but in the end it was not enough.

  Day 16 – 27/06/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Rest Day

  Rest Day

  It is a scientific fact that most men, and some women too, get depressed over the summer. There is no football on, we don't know what to do with ourselves. After a hard week at work or weekend shopping or sorting out the garden we like nothing more than to kick back and watch our favourite teams battle it out on the field of play.

  If there is no football then how do we relax? What are we supposed to do in our down time? We can check the latest transfer news but that will only sustain us for so long.

  But every two years we get a tournament, the World Cup or continental championship. We can continue our love of the game, once again plan our time around kick off, enjoy the glory and despair. But today, today is a rest day. Despite the hours of football I have watched in the last two weeks my craving has not been satisfied. For some reason I feel lost.

  I am in the garden, soaking up the summer sun’s rays, but I keep checking my watch. “Must not miss kick off”, I think, even if it is over two hours away. Then I realise there are no games today and rather than think, “how stupid am I?”, I get annoyed. Yes, I have watched thirty odd games in the last few weeks but for some reason I am annoyed that there are none on today. That doesn’t happen during the rest of the season, I don’t get annoyed on a Tuesday if there are no European matches. I don’t get annoyed on a Friday if there are no Friday night games. I don’t get annoyed if a Saturday falls on a holiday like Christmas. So why am I getting annoyed now?

  I think it is because we are programmed to run on routine and my routine for the last few weeks has been football, football, football. It is like a drug I need and without it I am left dazed and confused. Well today is one of those days.

  Sometimes I think, “these players are paid so much they don’t need to rest, they should earn their money.” I don’t take into account the strain on the body, the fact they have been playing all season, that the conditions are different over there. Sometimes I even think of complaining to FIFA, as if they would listen, to tell them that rest days are just being lazy. I really sound mad don’t I? I do sound like an addict who is getting ready for the next fix. And you know what, when the World Cup finishes I will be back to normal in two days.

  Day 17 – 28/06/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Round of 16

  The Penalty

  The beads of sweat are clearly running down my forehead. Everyone in the crowd, even those on seats high up with the gods, can see this in crystal clear clarity. Millions upon millions of fans at home watch each trail of sweat as they work their way down my face, some in glorious high definition.

  I need to put this out of my mind; it is just me, the ball, the goalkeeper and the goal. This is the most pressure I have ever felt in my ten years as a professional footballer but this kick is not to win the World Cup, far from it. This is the end of what has been a poor display from both teams in a second round match. Like the rest of the game, extra time was a cagey affair. And so here I stand, all four of my teammates’ penalties converted. The opposition having
missed just one of their five.

  I had to drag my aching limbs from the halfway line to get here and now my legs feel like they want to buckle under me. I hear the whistle go and close my eyes, visualising where I want to place the ball. The world waits with baited breath as I open them and summon up every ounce of energy I have remaining. I strike the ball, just managing to stay on my feet. It is not a good penalty, perfect height for a save and too close to the middle of the goal, but the keeper has dived the other way. All the pressure disappears in a split second.

  As the net bulges I scream and punch my fist upwards, but it is just my body’s reflex as every sound around me dulls as if I have just been in the middle of a bomb blast. I stand still trying to remember what has just happened, the crowd a dim and distant sound despite their screaming. I come back to my senses as I am swamped by my teammates and lifted high in the air, the cheers of the crowd almost deafening me. We have done it, we are through. As it starts to sink in I imagine commentators and fans thinking, “we never doubted him for a minute”. But whilst I will not tell anyone else, I cannot say that I did not doubt myself at all.

  Day 18 – 29/06/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Round of 16

  Every Colour Of The Rainbow

  They fly their flags, the sigil of their lands

  To show support for their troops

  Like banner bearers in a great battle

  They are displayed

  In every colour of the rainbow

  Text adorns them, telling you from

  Whence they hail

  So you can be in no doubt of their allegiance

  They wear their masks, painted faces

  Replicating the look of their banner

  It is as if William Wallace has returned

  The paint of war

  In every colour of the rainbow

  Their snarled faces, their joyous cheers

  Show pleasure and pain

  No attempt to hide any of their feelings

  They want to be noticed in their country’s uniform

  From ankle to neck they all look the same

  But these battle hard warriors

  Can choose their boots

  In every colour of the rainbow

  A bespoke accessory, their character shown

  It says to the world

  Look at me, for I am the best there is

  As well as their footwear their hair can be dressed

  To show current fashion and style

  They shave, they platt, they gel

  And apply dye

  In every colour of the rainbow

  The fans try to copy but are always behind the times

  For these heroes

  Are the ones who have the power to set trends

  But the thing that unites both player and fan

  Is the shirt, emblazoned with their crest

  A symbol of the struggle they face together

  They both wear it alike

  In every colour of the rainbow

  The superstar player, the ill-fitting juggernaut

  The fan in the stand

  They wear it as one, they wear it with pride

  Day 19 – 30/06/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Round of 16

  He Keeps Checking His Phone

  Her:

  There he goes again, checking his phone. He does it every couple of minutes. Does he know how irritating it is? We have come out for a nice days shopping together and all he intends to do is ignore me whilst being glued to that. How will I know if these shoes look good or that top goes with those jeans? Ok, so his opinions are rubbish but they tell me what I shouldn't be buying! He will moan that he didn’t want to come shopping but he should want to do things for me, I am his wife after all, he married me for a reason. Anyway, I said he could choose where we ate. It will be burger and chips in the pub even though I want a spot of Italian.

  He's doing it again, what can change in five minutes? I hate that stupid football, it is so idiotic and the sound annoys me. He looks at his phone all day then he will want to watch the highlights later, can’t he just wait? I can go to bed later, ignore this stupid sport. This was supposed to be a day we spent together but it appears there are three of us in this relationship. It is as if he doesn’t care about me, I just can’t win sometimes.

  Him:

  There's that look again! Every time I even think of getting my phone she looks at me. I know what she will say if I grab it, “what can change in five minutes?” What can change?! Everything, you can have goals, sendings off, injuries. The course of a whole season can change in five minutes. Does she not understand that it is a Saturday afternoon and I need to know what is happening? She keeps telling me to just watch the highlights later but I need to know now; I especially need to know if they are worth watching. Anyway, when I pop the highlights on she just complains she can’t sleep on the sofa cuddled up to me as the noise grates on her. So what am I to do? This was supposed to be a day we spent together but she has dragged me shopping, checking the football is all that is keeping me going. Why is it that when I want to do something she says she doesn’t but when she wants to something it is under the umbrella of something we can do together, regardless of me liking it or not? But then again I am the man and it is my duty to make the sacrifice, if I watch the football I am horrible and neglectful and if I stop her watching that girly movie she wants to then I am just a bully. I just can’t win sometimes.

  Day 20 – 01/07/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Round of 16

  Match Report

  Germany limped through to the quarter finals of the World Cup last night with a 2-1 extra time win over Algeria in Porto Alegre. Before the match many fans expected it to be a walkover for the Germans but throughout this tournament Algeria have been well organised and shown plenty of passion and commitment, and, after an early surge from the Germans, it was they who looked the brightest.

  The German back line looked like old men compared to the sprightly pace of the Algerians. Long balls constantly troubled the back four and were it not for the towering height of Per Mertesacker the Algerian strikers may have been through. On more than one occasion the balls did clear the back line only for Manuel Neuer to clear up the danger, acting more like a sweeper than a goalkeeper.

  As the first half wore on, Algeria were looking the more dangerous and scored from a fantastic header from Islam Slimani. The Algerian delight was cut short as the offside flag was quickly raised. On second inspection a good call but a warning for Germany. The Germans then almost took the lead as Adi M’Bolhi pushed a Toni Kroos shot away before completing a fantastic double save as Mario Götze followed the shot in.

  The Germans stepped up in the second half but were still susceptible to the counter attack and Neuer was called into action as a sweeper on more than one occasion. Although many expected Algeria to fall apart they kept going and frustrated a German team now on top. Thomas Müller almost put them in the lead on two occasions but after some excellent skill fired wide and then placed an inviting header straight at M'Bohli.

  Despite some desperate defending at times Algeria were well in the game and creating chances of their own, quite often it was just the final ball that let them down.

  Manic cheers greeted the final whistle as the game ended 0-0 after 90 minutes. However, extra time had only just started when Thomas Müller found a way around the Algerian defence and crossed for André Schürrle who, with fantastic improvisation, flicked the ball into the back of the net.

  It could have spelled the end for Algeria but they kept going. Bodies were now failing and players from both teams were dropping with cramp. Slimani was almost through for an equaliser but his legs would not move him quickly enough and Jérôme Boateng managed to get the vital touch. The Germans made sure of the result a few minutes from time as a miscued clearance fell to Mesut Özil who hammered the ball home. In truth, it was the
only real bit of good work he had done all evening.

  Rather than lie down, Algeria got up and tried to move on. With mere seconds remaining Sofiane Feghouli burst past his marker and crossed for Abdelmoumene Djabou to finish. Unfortunately there was no time for them to find an equaliser. It was, however, a fitting end to Algeria’s memorable World Cup campaign and they will go home heroes whilst Germany will need to find another level of performance if they are to beat France in the quarter-finals.

  Day 21 – 02/07/14

  What happened in the World Cup

  Rest Day

  What An Error!

  It has been raining, the surface of the ball is greasy but that is no excuse. It is a routine save but somehow I lose my grip, as my hands close together the ball squirms out of my grasp. I hear the sharp intake of breath from the defender at my side as the ball bounces once, then twice and lands at the boot of the opposition striker. He is the most prolific finisher in their team but it would not have mattered had it fallen to the centre back who runs like a wounded giraffe. The goal is open, gaping wide for him to finish. He does not need to think as he swings a big boot caring not for which direction the ball goes in.

  All I can do is stand and stare as the shot whips past me and nestles in the back of the net. I immediately drop to the floor, head in my hands, knowing that a plethora of cameras have caught that error. It will have been watched by millions live, more will see it on the match highlights and they will talk to their friends. It will go viral, people tuning into sports and video sharing sites to see the whole of the game condensed down to one minute, the minute where I dropped the ball, the minute that could spell the end for my team.