We're going home, we're going home 03/07/2006

A fairly uneventful week really. Nothing or nobody noteworthy in my Monday night swim session. Tuesday night was good fun. It was the lost double bill night, plus France vs Spain and the first Tuesday of my brothers new job so I thought we'd do something special. How better to celebrate than a large meat feast pizza with extra pepperoni and mushroom. Nice. The football was good and France, although I'm loathed to say it, performed very well to beat a talented Spanish side. France impressed by playing good passing football and even till the final minute and one goal up still keeping possession of the ball in the middle of the field.

Lost was also good. Great to see some further character development of Mr Echo, who remains one of my favourite characters. The second episode also made me favour Jack a lot more. After being given the run around by Kate it then showed him getting the shaft from his wife. What a bitch. She had pushed him to marry her even when he wasn't fully convinced. She knew he was a brilliant surgeon who was married to his job yet she still wanted to marry him. He turned down a booty call, came home to his wife, admitted to it to then be told she was leaving him AND had been sleeping with someone else. Maybe my more cynical attitude towards women made me identify with him even more and then when his position was comprimised in his standoff by Kate following him, I was right behind him. My brother and I almost cheered when he returned to the camp bowed but not defeated and asked Anna Lisa's help to build an army. Ok they might not have many bad arses to turn into an army but it was just the idea that Jack wasn't going to be made to crawl away like that and wanted some kind of revenge.

Managed to get an hour of swimming on Saturday morning before collecting my bro and a couple of his mates to head up to the pub to watch the footie. We occupied the same place that we did the previous sunday, ordered some chips and J20's and waited for the game to start. The female quotient didn't seem as high as the previous time though being a saturday maybe more were shopping. About two minutes before kick off I looked outside and saw this amazing looking girl waiting for a bus. She was with a friend and had long brunette hair, almost an eastern european face, slim figure and a great chest. She did look amazing and despite the importance of the coming game I found it hard to stop looking. I debated whether I had time to go out and hand her a card. I even took one out in preparation but then thought No I'll make myself look an idiot and she'll probably throw it away. It's ridiculous really, I've got the cards for these very situations when time or opportunity is limited and you can only hit and run but chasing a bit of skirt when England were about to kick off almost felt traitorous.

The game started and needless to say we played poorly. Portugal where missing their key play maker yet Sven's ever changing team formations hindered our team of potential stars and we dithered around the pitch. The only man to really shine was Owen Hargreaves, who just did not stop running and was the only English player who actually scored a penalty. Beckham hobbled off injured, Rooney stupidly lost his temper and was sent off and we were down to 10 men. We battled on valiantly as only England can do but it went to penalties, which everyone watching knew in their heart of hearts that we could never win and we lost. Portugal actually missed two of their penalties yet still we couldn't beat them.

I half blame our players who have become so self important, appeased and egotistical that they've forgotten the art of laying it on the line for their country and I'm sure just look at the World Cup as a nice overseas jolly with their partners rather than a chance to create a welcome jolt of national pride into the country. The other blame goes to the useless manager. He has no passion, can't instill any in his team, seemed to have no idea what formations to play, can't think tactically and made some poor team selections, particularly taking Walcott who was obviously never going to be played. Considering that he's paid five times more than Scolari and twenty times more than Guus Hiddink (former manager of Australia and South Korea) I think he should hold his head in shame for the piss poor performance he delivered for his crazy salary.

From the chanting, raucous atmosphere in the pub that started the game it was very subdued by the end. In a way it was good to see others sharing the same feelings of disappointment. I wasn't as gutted as some of the other times that we've lost because on those occasions we played really well and would have deserved to progress. On this occasion we didn't but it still stung. Consolation was found in the arms of a pizza hut mega deal and watching a getting better France take apart Brazil. I will be supporting Germany for the remainder of the World Cup. I like their strength and resolve in coming back from 1-0 down against Argentina, their expertise in taking penalties (which the Argentinian game went to) and the passion and exuberance that Klinsmann displays when his team score.

Sunday was another day spent down at the friends I had gone to two weeks previously. Like then it was a belter of a day and my brother and I got down there at about midday. It was great to be at out in the sunshine with a purpose and somewhere to go to. The two girls were ready so in the solid sunshine we went for a quick tumble on the trampoline which the kid in me still loves. My mate turned up a little later and we got dolled up in our paintball paraphanalia. One could have questioned the wisdom of putting all those layers on in 30c temperatures but better that than being struck by a paintball on exposed skin. We bought some paint since the last time, plus some battle backs (extra paintball carriers) and some kneepads for me. I was keen to try these out as they would offer support and allow me to crawl through the woods without fear of kneeling on a twig or stone. They were excellent and helped improve my performance I think, well worth the purchase. We had a few games in the woods and despite the heat once my body had come to terms that it was going to sweat it seemed to self regulate my temperature very nicely. Unfortunately in the first game I shot the host who then said 'I'm shot'. I couldn't quite hear him and as he then fired again (he had a problem with his gun) but I thought he was still firing at me and I lit him up again.

Took a break for some bacon and sausage rolls, which were gratefully received along with a water and coke. We pretty much played through the afternoon and evening including a game where we transported this plastic Wendy house out into the middle of a field and then attacked it while the two inside defended it. Went on the quads again and my brother did some clay pigeon shooting as well. For the final game me and another took our turn in the Wendy house. It was hilarious, chaotic madness with the paintball strikes echoing round the plastic walls as we took cover. The madness was only increased when the host jumped on the quad with another sitting behind him and decided to drive out to the house (which we'd now nicknamed little house on the prairie). We were standing on the outside thinking he was just driving out to save walking but as his passenger began to rain paint in on full auto, three of us tried to scramble back into this tiny plastic wendy house. It was all I could do to stop laughing as I tried to shoot back. The host's wife, as before, laid out a spread of pizza and salad and continued to amaze and humble us with her generous hospitality. It was a lovely mild evening and it was great to relax with some nice food feeling like we'd really done something with the day. Drove home and as it was hot and even though I was knackered, managed to virtually get no sleep despite having the fans on full pelt and sleeping for two hours on the living room floor. Hot weather is great for the day and seeing a mind boggling assortment of scantily clad women that can drive you mad but attempting to sleep in the evening becomes a real chore.