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Feeling a bit grotty today, once again, mainly tired. I didn't really manage to snooze in the daytime so was not too confident about the chances of me watching the England match in the middle of the night.
Though I was knackered I couldn't get to sleep so I half-watched Brazil vs Norway and then thought maybe I should just stay up. But I realised that that would make tomorrow unbearable. Why put myself through the tension? Why not use sleep as a beautiful time machine that would take me directly to the result? If I happened to wake up and the game was going then I could jump on board.
Though it took some effort, I finally fell into a deep sleep that was almost unbreakable and my time machine plan was looking good. But I was roused from slumber by the people in the pub next door singing "Hey Jude" and "It's Coming Home". I was so tired and still basically asleep and even this positive sign did not seem like a good enough reason to slap myself awake. I think I noticed the time, which by my calculations was very close to the end of the match and thought, "We've done it. I don't need to wake up. Please let me sleep." I didn't know the match had started an hour late, of course.
My conscious brain was curious to see what was going on, but my exhausted unconscious was winning the battle and I hung in limbo between wakefulness and the dreamscape, with the determination not to engage with the real world basically winning.
I didn't hear any sound, but I suspected from the change in atmosphere that something had happened and I finally checked my phone to find it was half time and that England were 2-1 up. I needed a wee, so I was out of bed and that meant my resolve not to get involved slipped and I turned on the light to find the TV control and then I was in for the second half.
The expectations on the England side are still insane. It's not enough that they win, they have to play brilliantly and ideally score many goals or pundits and fans will be disappointed (especially if playing a "lesser" team). You don't seem to really get the same thing with any other side (at least not in this country). If Argentina are nearly knocked out by Cabo Verde then that's a win for the plucky underdogs, not any sign that Argentina might be shit. It's fucking insane. Clearly any team in this competition with a bit of luck and a bit of grit can cause troubles to any of the others.
Yet today it seemed like England were fulfilling expectations - coping with the altitude and the incredible noise of the home crowd. Of course, it's never that easy and I came to regret having woken as I watched the rollercoaster of the second half, with a sending off, two penalties and then about half an hour of England rebuffing attack after attack.
The only thing that made it bearable was that the pub was 90 seconds ahead of me again and I was pretty sure that there would be some noise if Mexico scored and if the match was over. Though it wasn't always easy to discern what the reactions meant.
Once it was over I was very glad that I'd seen it. Though glad I didn't have to go to work in the morning. Or do anything in the morning, because I am in my sick bed! Not that any of those people in the pub were going to make it either. The hour delay won't have made them any more sober that's for sure.
I had made peace with the fact that England couldn't win this competition (and still think France almost certainly will) but we've seen that almost anything can happen, before France eventually win.
I thought I might not get back to sleep, but my furious subconscious finally managed to knock me out and get some weird-dreamed rest.
