Far from home, close to football

So we’re 18 days from the first kick of the 2014 World Cup. Timmy Cahill had his own section on 60 minutes last night (nice bloke eh?), but otherwise, only a few ripples from the Aussies about the beautiful game and its biggest tournament (not including the McDonald’s adverts and their Brazil burgers). Well, I’m in Sydney and it IS the first Origin game on Wednesday I suppose…

But this lack of interest doesn’t half make me miss home. I remember that buzz in the build up to a big tournament like the World Cup or the Euros. Can easily conjure that feeling of watching England with a group of ever-optimistic English fans, who have known the pain of disappointment far too many times. Wrapped in a St George’s cross, hardly able to bear watching the penalty kicks but not able to look away. Not just a game but a total leveller, where English supporters of all genders, ages and races come together and feel every kick, every fall, every goal, every miss.

Last World Cup in Sydney, I watched, lonely and shivering, every England match (granted there were only 4) in the wee hours of the morning. That time difference, sigh. Thankfully the first match this year is at 8am on a Saturday! Sweet mercy from the football gods. The English are rallying and bacon butties are being promised for half time. You never know – maybe, just maybe, this year really will be our year and it won’t matter that I’m on the other side of the world. I mean come on, everything’s pointing in that direction – Austria won Eurovision in 1966 too…