I had dragged my daughters to the British Airways lounge and sweet talked the attendant behind the desk with my smooth moves (my silver card lets me bring one guest only). I proceed to trek through the crowd of men in suits surrounding the TV. I find a seat on the floor, embarrassing my daughters and attracting a few odd looks in the process. I am therefore able to catch the last half of the Turkey-Croatia game, where I witness the most amazing moments of my soccer viewing career, and throughout which I add a few sound effects of my own (mostly high pitched screams, and a few yelps here and there). What a final two minutes! I am crushed when Croatia scores but my spirits are soaring when Turkey equalizes soon after in the final seconds of extension time (luckily right before I couldn’t control my tears). Hugging my knees like a toddler, I rock back and forth during the penalty kicks and debate whether I should go to the restroom and not come back until it is all over. Afterwards, I cannot seem to express my joy, but obviously attempt to anyway by repeating “I just can’t believe this!” over and over again for maybe, I don’t know, about the next 3 hours.

-Dani Rodrik (via a daughter)

Dani Rodrik, for fuck’s sake! Am I the only person in the world who isn’t obsessed with Turkey’s performance in Euro 2008?

Permalink | No comments yet | Print this post

Email this | Add to del.icio.us | Digg this | Share this on Facebook
See other content filed under: Clippings