Monday, October 24, 2011

If Carlsberg made Sundays …

24 years of hurt. It's like how Manchester United fans felt when they first won the Premier League. More on them later though.

Yesterday was pretty much as good as it gets for a proud Kiwi who is also a Liverpool fan and likes comedy, so I thought I'd share it and see if anyone else can beat it for a day.

I was up bright and early, fished out my All Black jersey and was glued to the sofa to watch us play the French in the World Cup final.

I’ve never been the world's biggest rugby fan but 15 years away from New Zealand has certainly made me more interested in how the All Blacks do as a proud Kiwi and I was even finding myself singing along to the words of the dreary dirge that is our national anthem God Defend New Zealand (not the Maori words though, sadly we were never taught those when I was at school) and cheered a particularly good All Black Haka – although I was disappointed that the ABs didn't do the iconic Ka Mate.

There followed 80 minutes of nerves as we were – frankly – out-played by the French and every Australian I know started texting and tweeting me messages about choking (naturally I usually retort when this happens with an Ashes-related jibe or mention the underarm incident – incidentally a distant relative of my Mum's was the batsman who faced it), but as the best team in the tournament and the only unbeaten one we definitely deserved to win. The hall carpet's a bit worn today though!

As Sean Fitzpatrick always says 35 times in every sentence on TV, all credit to the lads. Skippered by Richie McCaw they finally ended our hoodoo:
[Image from Getty Images / The Guardian - hope they don't mind me using it!]

Speaking of the TV coverage, wasn't the commentary awful? (in my own personal opinion of course!) It was summed up in the final for me when the ITV commentator said that McCaw was "the closest thing to royalty in New Zealand". Apart from the Queen (as head of state). Oh, and the Maori King of course. What nonsense!

Have heard plenty of stories of partying from friends and family, which is quite impressive given that the country shuts down at 8pm daily and the game didn’t finish until almost 11pm on a Sunday night.

But the day just got better. Liverpool played really well on Saturday so I was disappointed with a draw even if I did have Craig Bellamy as first goal scorer, but Sunday's football was as good as it gets.

I sat down in front of the TV to watch the Manchester Derby once my nerves had recovered from the rugby, and accordingly spent most of the next 90 minutes laughing heartily at the screen as Manchester United had a player sent off and shipped 6 goals to City at home, who you'd have to fancy to win the league now.

Even funnier than the United fans emptying the ground before the game was over (to be fair it's a long way back to Bournemouth and Bangkok on a Sunday afternoon) was the look on Gary Neville's face on TV afterwards:

Genius! Can't think of a more deserving man.

Chelsea having 2 players sent off and losing at QPR added to the comedy factor that could only have been bettered if Fernando Torres was one of them.

Once that was over it was time to head into town, meet my oldest mate Russ for a brilliant curry and then off to see Reginald D Hunter live at standup comedy, and he was really very, very funny indeed.

Can you beat that for a day?

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