Why did I (Bjørn) get up at 5.30 AM this morning to get into a frozen car, being almost blown off the bridge across the river by the winter storm on my way to the pub in southern Milwaukee to watch 22 spoilt and grossly overpaid teenagers and other young brats chase a ball for 94 minutes in England’s Northeast? The short answer is: I really don’t know. I wish a did ’cause then I could probably start working on mending the problem.
A slight consolation early on in the game was the realisation that the players weren’t being told to stop playing every two minutes because of a five-minute commercial break as is the case in another sport that I’ve taken a liking to since moving to the US… 😉
Believe it or not – I was not the only guy in the pub at this ungodly hour. As i stumbled into the pub with another couple of lost souls we were loudly greeted by the barowner: “You guys are f***ing crazy! But I love you…!” Well said.
As the game reached its dying minutes with Manchester United struggling to break the deadlock, Everton’s South African player Steven Pienaar (at that moment promptly named Milli Vanilli [legends] by a United fan!) ridiculously stuck out his foot and caught Giggs taking the ball away from goal and United were awarded a penalty kick. Ronaldo duly converted. That’s when I knew why I got up at stupid o’clock.
Well, I’m off to bed now, good night!