Sunday started off so well with a quiet pint at the Captain Kidd by the river in glorious sunshine. Me and some workmates headed off on the train of dreams (the new air conditioned Overground) to Shoreditch. There was a great buzz around the bars and shops of Brick Lane where, off a side street, we showed up at the Believe arena at the back of the Truman Brewery. Sponsored by the Football Manager Live game, the event was the perfect setting for a memorable occasion. With giant screens, cheerleaders and 500 very optimistic fans standing on specially-constructed terraces, we weren't at all bothered by the first German goal. After all, we knew it was going to be 3-1 to us. We'd seen the match predicted on the Football Manager video. Even the second one didn't matter, because the consensus was that we were playing our best football of the tournament. And we were proved right by the equaliser from Lampard. After that, the memories are still too painful. We tried to take our minds off it all afterwards by watching Argentina v Mexico. Then we had long conversations about our favourite video games and how they will look in 3D. Yesterday, Monday was a wipeout, a world cup quarter final sulk which went into extra time and lost on penalties. We. Just. Weren't. Good. Enough. It's only tonight that I started to get my World Cup mojo back with a little bit of Spain v Portugal. Maybe the quarter finals won't be so bad without England. I mean, the Premier League seems to manage OK without Northampton Town. No disrespect intended. And this is THE WORLD CUP.
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