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England and Paraguay teams were with mutual humanity, being gentle to each other. The former team never steals the ball or shoots the goal if not necessary. How kind! The latter one simply shot the ball into their own goal. How dependable!
mply shot the ball into their own goal. How dependable!
Maybe half of the female football fans would sit fixedly in front of the TVs, waiting for the appearance of England team. They never care about the score or what kind of ball was played. Their concern was totally attracted by David Beck-ham. Enviably, whose figure was still charming, with so many children after getting married; he was still aspired by unaccountable girls. I had just received a call from one of my friends; he stated that David Beck-ham was Xie Tingfeng (considering Tom Cruise in China-- by the translator). On hearing that, I felt overwhelmed. Although we were the same kind of male creatures, how could there be such a big contrast between us.
The game with Beck-ham was doomed to be fascinating, which could be seen by the change of my attitude, from being impatient to energetic. Soccer field was the same as the T stage, and that was to say, the games were so attractive to me that the ads seemed to be more interesting. In this way, I would not fall asleep unconsciously and woke up with a blank TV set when the game had been already finished.
My dinner was salty, as a result of which, I drank too much water in the evening. At the moment of the handsome English players coming in to the field each with a child's hand taken, I ran into the lavatory, supposing that when I was back, the game was about to begin. However, coming in to the washroom, a shout entered my ears (not a molestation) from the corridor that there was a goal just now. Oh my God, how could? I ran back to my dorm holding back the water. Gold Damn! It was one to naught now! And I was even unaware of the detail. After enquiring, I got that the Paraguayan headed the ball into their goalmouth. Without doubt, the goal is beyond logic and above reason.
The two teams I loved were playing too randomly, although at the beginning of the game, the battle was intense, considering players got injured one after another. The funniest thing was that the Paraguayan keeper hurt himself by covering his face with his T-shirt, replaced by a young fellow. The England had more trouble. The referee, I didn't know why, penalized one tall player again and again. But the truth is that, he is taller than the others, and if jumped, he can easily lay his long arms on the other players' shoulder. It seemed just like he was trying to push down the others. The penalties were none sense. What's more, the English No.4 was intercepting desperately, while he would only kick up the ball straight upwards after getting it. How silly! You were not playing the shuttlecock, and the goal was not on the sky as well. Afterwards, the English merely played halfheartedly.
The England team had a perfect and complete lineup, with so many giant stars in the team. It was just like billions of pounds running on the field. But the giant gentlemen just stroke a pose on the stage peacefully. How graceful! Thanks to Paraguayan goal, or the gentlemen would be shamed when they were lined up to leave the field.
I could never bear the sight of commentators of the CCTV, pulling a long face complaining about the un-energetic performance of the England. But you had to know that they were not obliged to run all around as mad person, the game players were not playing bucket cricket, which always achieving wishes as you’ve made. My comment to the game was that, it was interesting, with English beautiful T-shirt and Paraguayan graceful mustache which was apparently appealing to Latin American girls. That's all, thank you. Watching too many goal moments may be boring, and the chance should be left for future.
After a while, the Swede stepped onto the field with yellow sports wears, making them just like Handsome Monkey Kings (a Chinese literature character) with puttees. There was something wrong with my TV set. Staring at the white round point rolling on the ground for a while, suddenly I found it vanished. Oh, it was not the ball, just the noise point on the screen. Later, the TV served as a radio, and I did not watch it at all, because it was too dazzling.
The initial World Cup games shared a feature -always with a early goal and I felt impatient of the boring one-hour-ling game between the Sweden and another team (Its name? Who cares?). The yellow clothed players shot a lot, but the ball was always kept out of the goal by the keeper. After a while, suddenly, I had an illusion that the Handsome Monkey Kings on the playground were playing with the white round points on the screen.
Although the Swede was the most enthusiastic team in the first few games, they did not kick in one at all. May be the yellow clothed were all Leon (a character in a French movie), with a kind smile on their face when shooting.