No, no, Leo old friend, you misunderstand! I’m not getting inebriated because of an England win: I’m getting inebriated before, during and after an England win. Do you see the difference? The England win is not the cause, it’s an added bonus.
On Tuesday night, England played Ukraine, with a place in the quarter finals at stake. I met my friends Dave, Neil and Neall in Koi, a bar round the corner from us in Banks Road (didn’t exist when you lived over here).
Unbeknownst to me, but clearly beknownst to an awful lot of local youngsters on a budget, the bar had a deal on: all pints half price during every England game until the first goal is scored. This led to one memorable exchange:-
Young lad: “What’s your cheapest pint?”
Girl behind bar: “Becks”
Young lad: “How many pints can I get for twenty quid?”
Girl behind bar: “Twelve”
Young lad: “Twelve pints of Becks please!”
Bless his little cotton socks. Well, I’m assuming young folk still wear socks. Maybe I’ll look next time, if I think on.
Wayne Rooney scored, with a header that even I could have finished. Ukraine scored but the referee didn’t think it had crossed the line so didn’t give it. We won 1-0.
So another famous, albeit unexpected, England victory, meaning we top our group (wouldn’t have bet on that before the competition started) and now get to play Italy for a place in (the dizzying heights of) the semi-finals. Where we will no doubt, unless Greece pull off something miraculous, face Germany.
Always bleedin’ Germany.