Oh Dear Lord What's Wrong With Me?
It’s been over 24 hours now since it happened and I still can’t come to terms with it. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat (so I KNOW there’s something terribly wrong with me) and I can’t control the uncontrollable shaking that shudders through my limbs every time the memory of it washes over me.
How did it happen? Where did I go wrong? How can I retrieve that simpler time when up was up and down was down and certainty was certain?
Yesterday began so perfectly; a quiet, lazy, uneventful day spent lounging around the house reading the papers, catching up on tv shows I’d missed during the week and viewing some harmless sporting events. Harmless. HARMLESS. How pitiful and empty and hollow does that phrase appear to me now.
The Scottish national football team was playing a meaningless friendly in Glasgow against the mighty USA and I could barely keep my eyes open as some drab woman droned her way through the national anthems and the game kicked off. To stay awake, I was soon flicking through the channels looking for any exciting alternative – a fly fishing programme or the pottery world championships – when I stumbled across the BBC showing the England v Argentina football match. For the uninitiated, these two countries have some history so I tuned in hoping for a bit of action – a kick here, a punch up there or perhaps a full scale military re-enactment of the Falklands conflict.
What I got instead was one of the most exciting football matches I’ve EVER seen. With five minutes to go, England were 2-1 down and looking like they were heading for defeat but they refused to give up. I gasped as the Argentinian goalkeeper stopped an unstoppable David Beckham header from point black range. Wayne Rooney took my breath away with an audacious chip from outside the box that went inches wide.
And then it happened. Michael Owen sneaked in at the back post to square the match and two minutes later, when he scored the winning goal, I got off my seat and clapped and cheered. I’ll say that again – I got off my seat and clapped and cheered for England as they won a football match. Oh dear lord in heaven above, what the hell is wrong with me?
During a brief respite in the bodily convulsions this afternoon, my sweating hands managed to dial the phone number of a friend who wishes to remain anonymous for this story.
“Bruce,” I stuttered as he answered the phone. “The match. Yesterday. I cheered. And clapped. For England. Please help me.”
“I KNOW,” he replied. “I did too.”
Oh sweet Jesus it’s worse than I thought. It’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers. It’s The Day of the Triffids. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s too late for me but run Forrest, run like the wind. Save yourselves.
How did it happen? Where did I go wrong? How can I retrieve that simpler time when up was up and down was down and certainty was certain?
Yesterday began so perfectly; a quiet, lazy, uneventful day spent lounging around the house reading the papers, catching up on tv shows I’d missed during the week and viewing some harmless sporting events. Harmless. HARMLESS. How pitiful and empty and hollow does that phrase appear to me now.
The Scottish national football team was playing a meaningless friendly in Glasgow against the mighty USA and I could barely keep my eyes open as some drab woman droned her way through the national anthems and the game kicked off. To stay awake, I was soon flicking through the channels looking for any exciting alternative – a fly fishing programme or the pottery world championships – when I stumbled across the BBC showing the England v Argentina football match. For the uninitiated, these two countries have some history so I tuned in hoping for a bit of action – a kick here, a punch up there or perhaps a full scale military re-enactment of the Falklands conflict.
What I got instead was one of the most exciting football matches I’ve EVER seen. With five minutes to go, England were 2-1 down and looking like they were heading for defeat but they refused to give up. I gasped as the Argentinian goalkeeper stopped an unstoppable David Beckham header from point black range. Wayne Rooney took my breath away with an audacious chip from outside the box that went inches wide.
And then it happened. Michael Owen sneaked in at the back post to square the match and two minutes later, when he scored the winning goal, I got off my seat and clapped and cheered. I’ll say that again – I got off my seat and clapped and cheered for England as they won a football match. Oh dear lord in heaven above, what the hell is wrong with me?
During a brief respite in the bodily convulsions this afternoon, my sweating hands managed to dial the phone number of a friend who wishes to remain anonymous for this story.
“Bruce,” I stuttered as he answered the phone. “The match. Yesterday. I cheered. And clapped. For England. Please help me.”
“I KNOW,” he replied. “I did too.”
Oh sweet Jesus it’s worse than I thought. It’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers. It’s The Day of the Triffids. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s too late for me but run Forrest, run like the wind. Save yourselves.
posted by Neil @ 11:10 pm
4 comments
4 Comments:
I'll say a prayer for you ;-)~
Thank you Wendi. I'm sure you can feel my pain when I tell you that this is the equivalent of someone who'd attended Texas A&M or Oklahoma, leaping up in support of the Longhorns. Sheeeeesh!
Soaps,
I've been thinking about this one, but I just can't figure it out.Maybe it's some kind of conspiracy against the Scottish Nation and one of our most endearing characteristics Has your drinking water/ Stella been tasting odd lately? Have strange men in raincoats been following
you?
Do you think this kind of behaviour will be long-term?
An alternative, but unlikely ,explaination may be that this is an early sign of growing up!! FIGHT IT !
DC
There there, it´ll get better.... we hope! ;-D
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