australia 2 - 1 japan

Ah yes, rolling down rathdowne street, past stationary cars, on the way to the pub, ignorant of the possibility of bike seat thieves being AT LARGE and weaving among the Imperial throng, empty-handed blind turn at the (severely understaffed) bar, laying eyes on a posse of blokes i recognised well and getting amongst it.
"and g;day to you, too." from simon, some minutes after my arrival. Champagne email banter going un-replied-all to.
The Great Seat Heist. The rueful prospect of a quad-tearing marathon to footscray later in the evening. The even-more-rueful prospect of telling Claudia about it. The rise and fall of Gary Neiwand.
Picking up the meandering pace through the Treasury gardens and moving at a fair clip by the time ground announcers could be heard. "Kick off in 10 minutes; we want you all to be seated..."
Navigating well the famililar flood of the MCG pre-game, but navigating with less poise the unexpected jog/ light run up flight after flight sucking in air of diminishing oxygen content. The dizziness of first arrival on 4th deck. The craned neck to see if, yes, there are more seats behind me. And yes, ours are among 'em.
A strangely subdued first half, wondering about tactics and individual versus team contributions, and strategy and imagined complexity versus real complexity and how much of this game comes down to chance, anyway?
The Tim Cahill double.
Rocky's "It's just like world war 2 all over again! At half time they (japan) were in Darwin!"
The roar.
The roar.
The drums, the flares, the songs.
Threading among the stationary cars through East Melbourne and thinking, yep, that was the go.

hope suburban life swallows us all tonight.
Life in the Big League is hard to take.