I was in the crowd in a beer club to witness the game. People is gathering in places, houses, clubs, square with big screens, just to watch a game. Hundreds of companies allowed an off day today, thousands of laborers sacrificed thousands hourly wages, even from the morning to talk about the game and watch it live on national channels.
The city is suddenly more quiet than the other days, because people is gathering in their own “temples”, hold their breath to expect a miracle to be happened. A game’s miracle.
Out of our league
That doesn’t happen. The miracle millions of Vietnamese are expecting was not happened. The players couldn’t pay what they can’t afford, they dared not to strike but to defense longing for the penalties. Not only the fans, but also the team and the managers, the coaches, we understand that the team just can not win the game, so they pray for a miracle.
There were attempts. There were falls. There were cheers. There were breathless. Incessantly.
The pride did not allow us to lose, but the pride can’t strike.
The winner takes it all
Uzbekistan deserves the cup. They press the game the way it should be. People blamed for the extreme weather, they blamed for the exhaustive schedules, they blamed for the feng-shui of uniforms, they blamed for everything which blocked accesses to the championship the country longs for plenty years, after that “fake victory”.
I saw tears. I saw sadnesses. I saw hugs. Supporters grieved. Hooligan celebrated. The holy grail is not us, once again.
We don’t read the game the way it is
The game consumes strength, spirit, belief and respect, lack of anything such, the championship is just a miracle the team can only wish for which can not achieve. Ask not how they performed, ask how they have trained. Ask not when will the team win, ask where they have grown up. Ask not what they long for, ask whom he is blamed for.
That is the game which players have to play fairly, and blame not for anything, even the Gods.
The champion played it better. Take it, and overcome it. We are smaller than we expected for the game.
Miracles are just not happened.
Not only us, some expats in Vietnam are also read the local the way they thought they “deserved”. Funny is that the only talent such expats have is speaking false Vietnamese, and nothing else. They barked, and get bites.
Thousands didn’t celebrate neither cherish
Fans cherished, they are happy with the silver because more than anyone, fans understand their team, and the golden is just a little bit spice for the victory they’ve already got few days ago.
Crowds are different. They celebrate the victory they don’t have, by riding savagely on bikes around the city in the noises of horns, punching anything which generate noises as loud as possible, and shout out “việt nam vô địch”, “việt nam hồ chí minh” for none of the reasons. The savages were so happy to be observed along their routes, the city was full of such savages running around and spitted out the stupid of its race. They are a copy of those gorrilas marching in Saigon in 1975.
I came home from the crowd of savage race, it took me longer than usual. I did not get angry or being upset, the only feeling I have at the moment I was in the noise of nonsense is: such race is incurable.
Congrats Vietnam, you lose again.