What happened last night still feels surreal.
Started to move into the ground at 6:30, but didn't manage to get to my seat at around 7:15 going through a series of security checks. There were even a team of mounting police outside the stadium, well equipped and prepared. There was a clock counting down to the kick-off. Cheering was always reverberating in the stadium when the England players were warming up. The stands were quickly filled up, am afraid 70-80% were taken by fans in England jerseys in red or white. Cheering was especially loud when Rooney and Gerard were introduced, while the names of the Croatian players were made completely inaudible by the whistles and boos. Then the big chorus of "God Save the Queen", followed by the Croatian national anthem submerged in the jeers—something similar to what happened when England were playing Turkey in the qualification stage, then there were the abuses of England's black players by the Turks. Hope things are not going as bad today.
The start couldn't have been worse for England. I had a sinister feeling before the kick-off that England might concede an early goal. And that's exactly what happened. The defence on set pieces has always been fragile. The score line read 1:0 to Croatia already in the 5th minute. I was saying the same prayer as I did the day I landed in Portugal: ENGLAND, HERE I AM, COMING ALL THE WAY FOR YOU. DON'T LET ME DOWN!
It seemed the prayer was being heard and answered immediately, it was all England. After 40 minutes of anxiety, Paul Scholes headed England level. After Nuno Gomez settled the scores for Portugal the previous night, I was predicting that it would be an international veteran to rise to the occasion, and for England it would be Owen or Scholes. Then there came that feeling of unreality, first striking me when the whole stadium was on its feet for the goal. For a split of a second, I felt I was flying high. Just probably, drugs could give the same effect? Even before the stadium sat down on its seat, Rooney the wonder boy scored another wonder goal! The legend simply continues! Half time: England 2:1 Croatia.
Got a text message from a friend in Beijing:”你坐在什么地方？看来不裸奔是看不见你了” I texted him back:”坐在英格兰角旗边上，裸奔不大容易，因为在上台，估计还没奔下去就已经被按住了”
The second half started with England continuing the dominance. Then Rooney scored again! England were cruising, running wild. With about 20 minutes left, Rooney was substituted to a standing ovation. But, almost immediately, Croatia pulled one back from yet another sucker free kick. That sickening feeling creeping secretly back: would we repeat that tragic finale of one week ago? The doubt was dispelled though when the impressive Frank Lampard struck a sweet goal to settle all nerves. England are through, 4:2! The same score as England won the World Cup 38 years ago…..
Never had I expected to live through such a sensational game. When England were trailing by one goal, my prediction, or hope, was that we could get back on level before half time, then score a winning goal in the second half.
Crowds were lingering in the stadium, crowds were gathering outside the stadium. Fans were chanting Rooney’s name in front of television cameras. Suddenly a familiar figure came out of the crowd: Andrew Gilligan, carrying the same rocksack (maybe). Taking out his notebook, he started to interview a group of fans sitting on the road curb. Struck a brief chat and asked for an autograph from him before he walked away, this seemed to have surprised him.
What was so lovely was that the fans from both camps mingled merrily together, both on the tube and later in the city centre.
Suddenly, for no reasons at all, I had a feeling of anticlimax. Could it simply be the fact that the emotions, expectations, anxieties and excitements have been built so high in the past few days, and then they are released in such an emphatic manner, and left in me only void? Anyway, did join the crowds in Rossio for a beer, than came back to the youth hostel before 1:00.
Had a very good sleep, woke up at 10:00 this morning. As soon as the phone was switched on a couple of business related messages came in, reminding me there is a real world outside football. Then a long discussion on business issues over my brunch with two colleagues in the office was only strengthening that message.
Couldn't manage to get a direct flight back to London, had to go via Milan. The flight took off at 15:05. I'm now wrapping up this diary on the plane. For me, the trip to Euro 2004 is over. I'm back to reality, and back to my armchair supporter status.
But England are marching on. That is a fantastic feeling!
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