Sunday, October 23, 2011
During the night I was awakened by a girl's voice yelling "Oi! Stop!". I just had time to ascertain what it was she was yelling at before it stopped; someone with their windows open playing Killer Queen. Eventually I got back to sleep but woke up with Queen on the brain, and if there was ever a day for Queen to be on the stereo, it is today.
I just read this transcript of what went down in the changing rooms before the '87 final (imagined? I'm not sure) and now I'm nervous; after preaching to Vincent about the outcome being the same whether we are nervous and crazy or relaxed and happy today (better back-track before he gets back from his run). It's just so exciting and so huge! I've been part of things that were personally or politically significant, but never have I been inside a sporting event like this, and I've loved it; even the massive spew we came back to find on the front step of our building last Saturday after the Wales vs France semi didn't change anything. Yesterday we went to Clevedon, and driving through Onehunga and then back through Papakura we saw flag after flag, lots of them Samoan, and I felt so happy. We arrived home to two beret-wearing Frenchmen, and that made me happy. There are people everywhere, from everywhere, and we all get to be part of this thing.
We watched last week's All Blacks semi at Queen's Wharf, and the atmosphere was so tense you could feel it pressing against you (and then you'd whip around to see who dared encroach on your space). If things had gone another way things could have been very ugly, and it was easy to see how someone who is already angry and frustrated might take it out on his family.
Anyway, I have to get back to my day; Vincent and I have a high-protein menu to prepare our bodies for all of the beer we'll be pouring into them this afternoon. We've decided today is the day to use the two hundred dollar bar-tab I won a few months ago, and so far it's just the two of us, so chances are we will be very drunk indeed. Allez les noir!
PS This interpretive dance is very silly but very clever. Although strictly speaking, this isn't interpretive dance - at least it's not how I do it.