wake me up
last night my beloved france played holland in football. it was our second match in euro 2008. after having drawn the first with romania we really needed to win this one.
we lost 4-1.
there are so many feelings and thoughts running through my mind right now that i don’t really know what to think. i don’t think i can give a coherent description of the game and my view of it probably doesn’t corrolate well with what actually took place.
but here is my impression of what happened:
holland scored 4 goals.
the first, scored by kuyt from a corner, came when holland were starting to threaten and during the next 10 minutes holland were all over us. for the rest of the match france utterly dominated and Holland scored three goals from four counter-attacks.
right in the middle of all that there was a moment which was heartening and terribly sad in equal measure. we scored – and for just one moment (literally) the score was 2-1. by then we’d conceded the first of our counter-attack goals and were already feeling hard done by. we felt we should’ve scored so much earlier already. but when that goal came i was convinced the tide was going to change.
normally when you pull one back from 2-0 you hope there’s a chance. you hope you can turn the game; you hope you can equalize. but when we scored, for briefest (and saddest) of moments i knew we were going to score again and draw level.
i knew it.
and – in fact – i thought unless holland rally we were going to win! we were playing so well at the time (a bizarre statement considering the score was 2-0 at the time) running at them, attacking in wave after wave, dominating the possession, that once we scored i knew more goals were going to come.
but they didn’t. at least not for us. i didn’t even have a moment to start enjoying the release of having finally broken through, a moment of knowing that the game was finally going our way, that we were going to turn it around… before holland countered once again and the ball was in the back of the net.
it was so sad.
i couldn’t and still can’t believe it.
and then apparantly there was another. sneijder, i think. one of them dutch people…
hours later i now look at that scoreline and i simply don’t understand it. its like a sick joke. like one of those ridiculous dreams you have, where the instant you wake up you know it wasn’t real.
you laugh and go pft! that was so silly! terrifying, but so silly…
only, for some reason i can’t seem to wake up.