The game.
This isn't the story that I wanted to tell you tonight, in fact it isn't the story I thought I'd ever tell this time. The story was supposed to be uplifting and a tale to make you all be inspired and it came so close to being able to do that.
The fickle hand of fate can change everything in an instant. From a nailed down victory, a slip at the wrong time, a moment of skill that snatched it all away. Even in the face of defeat they fought on, their hope that another twist of fate could change it all yet again but fate had dealt her only hand. The hope and dreams of a people came to nought again and over the next few days our people will be returning home, their defeat heavy on their shoulders.
Not the spoils of victory will we gain and a celebration of that victory has now become a wake of sorrow and despair. Across our land the news will spread and heads will lower in the thoughts of what may have been.
This is the post I make today to ward off it coming true tomorrow as England are just one game from the World Cup Final.
It's coming home...
Maybe.
image Sky sports
It is coming home.
It could happen. I myself am not much a a football fan on either side of the pond, (american or english Football). But it has been fun playing in a couple of the pick the winner games. In one of them the only team I have left alive in it Croatia, I have no idea if they are a good team, if they got lucky, or if they have surprised everyone. But I sort of hope they do win, then I will at least make it to the finals on my guess.