What's with the bloody English?

Let me make a few things sparkling clear at the very 'freaking' beginning- I don't resent British for their colonial history. I love their accent - especially when the speaker is Liz Hurley. I love Geoffrey Boycott. I don't mind Kate Winslet one bit. D.H. Lawrence and Ian McEwan (both British) are among my favorite authors.

But...I just hate the bloody England cricket team. And I hate their bloody football team.

Anyone who has been following cricket in the past year, however superficially, will agree that the behavior of the English cricketers has been obnoxious. And, so has the way they have played. Ever since they won the Ashes they have been strutting around with an air of imperiousness, their heads in the clouds, not deigning to honor us ordinary mortals with as much as a glance.

Well, there's nothing wrong in feeling proud about what you have achieved. And England achieved something remarkable last summer. And they did it by playing enthralling cricket of the highest pedigree. But what do they have to show for themselves since- a couple of drawn test series, injuries to most of their players and a shambolic one day team that even the Austin Weekend Warriors( that's our now disbanded cricketing venture) would fancy their chances against.

And the excuses have been flying thick and fast, encouraged in no little measure by columnists, ex-cricketers and an adoring British public. Frankly, it is an insult to the spectators and fans if England 'does not take one day cricket seriously'. It’s like finding out midway through a concert that the artist is actually miming. And as for injuries to their players, keeping fit is a significant responsibility of any sportsman. If you breakdown for 10 months after playing in two games, you don't deserve to be in an international side. It seems to me like the entire English cricketing world is indulging in an operation of self deception, conning themselves into believing that they are good, when they actually suck.

As for the football team, the results are there for everyone to see. England is a vastly overrated team - thanks again to a sycophantic media. Their captain scores once every three years and probably doesn’t have a single goal to his name that did not come from a set piece. One of their star strikers hasn't scored in 20 odd games and another was stretchered off, sans a foul from the opposition. They have good midfielders but so do 15 other teams in the world cup. They play the hopeful longball in 9 out of 10 attacking moves. And to cap it all their coach claims they 'aren't there to entertain'.

Well, its time someone asked the British, "Just who the fuck do you think you are?"

Spielen sie fussball?

Despite the inconvenient match times here in the US, I find myself inextricably caught up in the football fever. Apart from the genuine quality on display, an element of mystique always surrounds the event. Rather like an exotic medieval market, where traders from around the world display their wares, attempting desperately to outwit their fellow hawkers, trying passionately to convince the passersby of the value of their goods. While some simply nod at the overzealous peddlers, the eyes of some others light up in delight. Some smile in amusement at their enthusiasm, while some shake their heads in lament. Though the traders are the players in this unsophisticated game, pitted against each other in a bid to usurp the spoils of the day, they will do well not to lose track of their equally formidable adversary- the restless minded, fickle passerby meandering through the market with coins clinking around in his pockets, looking to unburden himself off the onerous responsibility of choice.

Well, since I am this smitten, I might as well go out on a limb and make a few predictions on who I think will qualify for the knockout stages from each group. However, I must admit, Germany 2006 thus far has been largely devoid of any major surprises, with form closely correlating with reputation. Hardly the same can be said of the last WC, where to paraphrase one columnist, a South Korea v. Turkey final loomed as a distinct possibility.

Group A: Germany and Ecuador

Group B:England and Sweden
England is extremely overrated. I guess this is because most of their players represent (or have represented in the past) high profile clubs in the Premiership, greatly enhancing their visibility. However the absence of a really strong second team means they will finish at the top of group B.

Group C: Argentina, Netherlands
The group of death, or, as one columnist put it, the group of life. Some of the most attractive football on display thus far has come from the teams in this group.

I'm rooting for Ivory Coast to pip Netherlands for the second spot.

Group D:Portugal, Mexico
A fairly nondescript group, thanks to Mexico’s inflated FIFA world ranking. The Portuguese play attractive football though.

Group E:Italy, Czech Republic
Again, a very tough group. I’m surprised this group did not receive much media attention from the labelers le fatale.

I hope Ghana edge out the Czechs.

Group F:Brazil, Australia
A pretty competitive group. Samba and Kangaroos don’t really belong in the same sentence, but in this case, we can make the exception.

Group G:Switzerland, South Korea
With France stuttering like a 2 year old with a speech defect, this group seems wide open.

Group H:Spain, Saudi Arabia
A ridiculously easy draw for Spain means that they should steamroll their way into the last 16.

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The dust has hardly settled from yesterday's dust storm, 'loo' they call it in these parts. The leaves of the trees are covered in fine brown powder, the ones that haven't withered from the heat. It feels like an oven, a crematorium, an incinerator. My mind is muddled, from the heat, or from the dust, I cannot tell. It has been this way for months, so I conclude it is because of neither. I am on my way to the reservations center, even the one closest to my home is a hundred miles away. I have been been walking for two days, no buses or trains go to the reservations center.

My mind is clear, clear with the clarity of purpose. My feet hardly ache, I think it is because of superior quality footwear. I have hardly felt the ground beneath me during my walk. But now my feet, like the leaves are covered in dust. It's good, it stops the bleeding.

I seem to be going around in circles, the circumeference of the circle increases every hour. I think I have walked 2000 miles since yesterday, but the reservations office is still elusive. The map says it should be right where I am standing now, I should be staring at a grey building with pink windows and bright green doors. I should be able to see soldiers in white uniforms, sheparding the crowds towards the big blue main door. The map says so, the reservations office is located at the 54th radius of the 48th circumeference.

I am worried now. If I pass this circle, I may never be able to to trace my way back. I have to fight for my son's reservation. He has been wronged and only the white men in black coats at the reservations office can do anything about it. If I pass this circle, I have to go back empty handed. I have to meet the men in the whit coats and ask them to help my son.