An alert blogger has asked why,given how much Thomas and I love Portugal, we could jump on the band wagon and root, whole hog, for Germany. Here's the thing: First, I cannot emphasize how this first quarter goal would have warmed the heart of any soccer crazed rabbi. One guy came around the outside while somehow using telepathy to tell some other guy in the middle to put on a turbo charger and he ran as fast as any person i have ever seen. I am not exaggerating, I have never seen a person run so fast..but it also was perfectly timed..because the guy on the outside KICKED the ball way ahead of him..all timed so the turbo charged guy would reach it at exactly the right time and kick it in. I'm telling you...every one who saw it was struck dumb. Before they started screaming. Second, if I could be a portuguese, dont you think I would? they are small boned and tan and quiet and they rise to greet each of their friends when they come to the table and kiss them. The entire group. Meanwhile, my people (and I say that because I have relatives with names like Augusta Schroeder and a kid with a german passport) are loud, blond, CRACK themselves up... and don't get up when their friends come unless their friend's big blond head is blocking the television. One cannot at serious times like the European championship pose as anything other than what one is. If I offered my rooting services to the Portuguese, it would be a little like the log cabin republicans...no one would be rude to my face, but the establishment would be hoping quietly that I go away. So. Onward Deutschland. Incredible game last night: watch out for the Turks!!! They had 30 seconds to score a goal, they did, then won on penalty kicks. Also they were losing last week 2 to zero, and came back and won.
Sunday night is Italy Spain. The waiters will be distracted I think...stay tuned.
It is Saturday and the pool is getting more interesting: more boob jobs with new boobs covered in sparkly tops. Group of very stout Russians whom we will refer to simply as bachelors A-Q for Eloise's perusal. Her arrival is imminent.
F is playing in the kids' fox zone, a new development here at the hotel..babysitters with soccer field and water balloon fights. He is in heaven. I can hear his voice across the pool. Right now though the only other kid in there is an Italian girl his age who says she speaks a leeetle English.
Eloise is here! resplendent in orange and everyone staring at her. Unfortunately the Russians were only here for lunch and left back into the sunset. Sad, the pool has never been more fun -they were yelling at each other across the pool then jumping in en masse to race each other..everyone in..grandfather who is seriously over weight, hot 40 year old father..children, nannies. You cannot imagine the commotion in a pool that has seen nary a customer for these past days. In background a group of all men was toasting shots of something clear. EL missed her future with that group.
I introduced El to the waiter: this is my cousin. And what a cousin she is!!! he said. And then he said a typical Italian thing...Complimenti! Like: kudos for the hot cousin!!! I thanked him..whatever.
Off to pizza evening...return tomorrow.
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