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World Cup Fever
a dream by Paul Garner's subconscious

Imagine the scene... a big soccer pitch stretching out in every direction for us to play on... a soundtrack of relaxed and groovy sixties jazz -- electric piano, vibes, flute, a gentle latin groove. It's a friendly game... I've got the ball... there's no teams, it's 'all against all' as we used to say, and the other players... well there's a mixture of pro football stars, a few surreal characters; a chef, maybe a pirate, and... a flock of sheep.

Like I said, I've got the ball... I'm also holding a, what do you call them? A grill slice? Like you'd use for flipping burgers. It's all shiny and clean, stainless steel. I'm dribbling the ball down the pitch... a sheep comes out of left field but I dodge her easily... I kick the ball ahead of me and another sheep intercepts it... she's watching me, being cautious with the ball, and I know she's thinking something like "four legs good, two legs bad..." but as I come in for the tackle I wave the shiny slice and she's distracted - almost mesmerised - by it, and I steal the ball away once more.

"I'm on to something here," I think to myself. The pirate, with his wooden leg, was never much of a threat, but still I notice that he too is distracted by the slice. I'm having fun now, seemingly unstoppable. I distract and dodge past the chef, past three more sheep who've formed a defensive line in front of the goal, then... he shoots - he scores!

Lassie nosed the ball back into play and the Duke of Wellington got a foot to it first, but with a cunning feint of my grill slice I soon had it off him. I could see however that I had some tougher opposition ahead of me - some of the pro football players. A dude came at me... flashy team-kit and bleached hair... I could see he was trying to keep his eye on the ball and come in for a skillful tackle... still, the grill slice was so shiny, so shiny, and I waved it so cleverly that at the last moment as we closed in on one another it caught his eye and I slipped past.

Perhaps feeling over-confident now, I kicked the ball ahead too far and another of the football aces got on to it... this time a Japanese guy. He dribbled it forward expertly and went for a big kick at the goal but I waved my slice in the air, distracting him at the vital moment, and he tripped on the ball... the ball went flying forward but he managed to keep his balance somehow and catch up with it... only to trip on it again, all by himself.

I was laughing because it looked really funny, but I had to stop because he was rolling around on the ground in pain. "I'm sorry, are you all right?" I asked, trying to sound concerned whilst holding back the last of my giggles. He clutched his foot, "Oww... my metatarsal!"

Which was of course the most famous little bone in Britain for a while during the 2002 World Cup.



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Copyright © 2002 - Paul Garner.