I don't know why I felt anything at all before, during or after the "quarter final to end all quarter finals". Perhaps it was all the hype. Perhaps it was the image of the WAGs on their shopping trips (the most significant and blatant advertisement for consumerism I have ever seen). Perhaps it was because I knew that England could only perform the way they did under a wet fish manager like Sven whats-his-name. Perhaps it was because I knew Rooney* would lose it and be sent off. Perhaps it was in the stars. Whatever.
So I managed to watch the stalemate up to the point Rooney was sent off. This would surely trigger a ploy by England to go for penalties, I thought, so I took the opportunity to go to the local supermarket. Which, of course, was empty. I returned in time to see the end of extra time and sat down to see if the "boys" could score more penalties than the men from Portugal. They were pathetic. Only the much maligned Hargreaves (England's man of the match) could put one in the net.
And so the balloon was pricked, the bubble popped, the hype shown up for what it was. The real losers? Why the fans, of course. They deserved better. Much better.
* If Rooney can ever live down his groin stamping temper tantrum and finally reach adulthood, and if his manager can use him where he should be used, he has a future. Only time will tell but for now he is one overpaid little thug.