The rain grows in intensity. A storm is threatening near Mexico. The Petchary hopes it will start to wash away the uncomfortable sores, the throbbing wounds, the tender bruises of this country that won’t ever heal before they are cut and bruised and wounded all over again.
Even if the rivers should swell and the highways flood… Our island needs this cleansing, at this time.
And a pretty, white Lear jet rises above the thick banks of white cloud, away…
Meanwhile, back in South Africa, the world champions are going home with tear-stained faces, following their fierce opponents in the last finals. They looked so weary throughout, as if old history was on their shoulders.
Meanwhile, the energetic, scurrying Japanese side leapt and twisted and showed off their skills, as the Danes slowly faded. Two sublime free kick goals in quick succession (the first from the yellow-haired Keisuke Honda positively lasered into the back corner of the net; the second from Yasuhito Endo curled smoothly round the end of the wall) barely touched the fingertips of the Danish goalie. The Japanese seemed to become more invigorated as the game went on, while the Danes looked more labored. What a delight!
And can we not forget the gloriously happy fans? The images of insane, monumental headgear (a cooking pot, a kiwi bird, a Viking helmet, a wild wig) and elaborate face paint adorn our television sets every day. Some outfits seem to allude to fairly obscure cultural references, known only to themselves.
But life will be very dull without them, when the competition is over and they all go back to their humdrum lives around the planet…