England Are An Embarrassment

So why is it that I managed to miss most of the World Cup final? Because one part of my destiny was being fulfilled the night before. My wife went into labour on the morning of June 8th, and after 24 hours of wailing and pretty horrendous goings on, my son was born at 8.30 a.m. on 9th July, World Cup Final day.

Now clearly someone had this all planned. I and my wife were destined to have our first child born on the day that England finally exorcised its soccer demons and gloriously brought home the World Cup. Only they didn’t. We kept our side of the bargain, whilst they just bored us to tears for four games and let us down horribly in the fifth. At least I had something to be pleased about on the 9th.

By the way, it was also supposed to be the year that Arsenal won the Champions League for the first time… But they’re forgiven.