Get that to f***. I f***ing hate the English and would be about as happy seeing them lose a World Cup final as I would Scotland winning one. Or maybe just this one in particular.
I don't have a memory any more and I have a curious ability to forget just about anything about a sporting event I've seen. I couldn't tell you a thing about any European Championships in my life. World Cups the same, mostly, aside from finals and especially memorable moments. There are a few things which persist in the memory, however.
I remember Ronaldinho chipping David Seaman from forty yards.
I remember Zidane vomiting on the penalty spot then scoring.
Then scoring a free kick two minutes later.
I remember the Portuguese beating them on penalties.
I remember the Portuguese beating them on penalties.
I remember the advert for Borat popping up on the (then new) electronic advertising boards when Paul Robinson decided to let the ball go straight through him.
I remember being in a pub for the Slovenia game and them thinking this meant their tournament was on track.
I remember Ian Wright declaring England will SMASH Germany, smash them as soon as the group was over.
I remember Neuer's face mirroring the world, knowing that ball had crossed the line and not carrying.
I remember no introspection for being put out the World Cup by Germany on a given goal which didn't cross the line.
I remember Pirlo ripping the utter pish for 120 minutes then hitting a Panenka, because who else would?
I remember watching Harry Kane take corners.
I remember Alan Shearer crying, and me offering more insight into their problems in a post on here than he's done in his life.
Now, I've known a few English people in my time in various ways. I'll probably be at work with one on Monday. I technically am related to several of them. One in particular who I'll never see again has a piece of my heart and doesn't know this. Stray Wasp posts on here and is about the closest anywhere on HF comes to universal acclaim, even if he's been getting a bit over-excited as the rounds have passed. That's not his fault though, it's the team's for not doing the done thing and exiting.
Aside from all of those things, this tournament has been unlike any other I've experienced because there's been no certainty. Usually you know within five minutes of England's first game when they're going out but here, there's nothing. And until I know they're not going to win, there's no enjoyment for me. There are several good options available - a country with a smaller population than Scotland beats them, a country managed by Roberto Martinez beats them or the French beat them - but until they do, there's a nagging doubt about it I've never experienced before. Until I can experience the usual comedown from the English media I'm unable to avoid consuming, the irregular fervour we've experienced just grates. It can't be tuned out like normal.
So until that natural order restores itself I refer you to my opening line. Although if Queen Nic wishes to meet the Croatian president and beg her to teach us how to produce footballers she can hold on to the trophy all she wants. She may as well. We'll run out of room for stars above the badge in her lifetime. The national team will make Auchinleck Talbot look constrained by comparison.