It’s almost midnight and I’m supposed to be tucked up in bed, fast asleep; but my neighbours don’t want me to. Remember our seige a while back? We’ve just had the night version. I don’t have any photos for you this time, but I can give you an eyewitness account.
I was reading in bed when I suddenly heard screaming and I looked out of the window to see who I now know as thirteen-year old ‘Callum’ screaming at the flats opposite. I won’t bore you with the details – just take six teenagers, an England-US draw and some booze, throw in as many eff words as you can find, add one large family and assorted friends and neighbours, and you’ll get the idea. It all really kicked off, though, when Callum phoned his Dad to complain he’d been beaten up and Dad came tearing round in his car – which he abandoned in the middle of the street – and chased the lad who had touched his lad down the street.
It was about this point that I noticed a nosey woman in a ground floor flat opposite, watching the action from her open window. She was lucky not to get a brick through it: we’d already had the beatee kick a parked car and the beater urinate all over the same car until someone complained it was her friend’s car; that’s when the beater turned, water stick in hand, and continued his business in the road. That nosey woman really should know better than to let herself be seen by aggressive drunks – turn off the light like I do.
One family imploded, goading an elder sister who was trying to calm things down, encircling her in a rather frightening way, particularly given that they were all related. The police finally arrived at that moment, so the younger lads ran off to watch the Dad batter the beater of his son and then get arrested.
The head count was a little lower this time: only four police vehicles, two ambulances, four paramedics and eight cops. No guns, as far as I could see. The police stayed for about forty minutes, calming things down, warning some, cautioning others, and telling off my next door neighbour for interfering in police business when she came out in her nightie to complain that her grandchildren were trying to sleep.
Tempers finally cooled and the police and paramedics went off to tackle another bunch of volatile drunken England fans on another street just like ours elsewhere in the lovely town of Stockport. Some of the neighbours celebrated that no-one went to hospital or jail by cracking out the pear cider and Stella, and now a little party is taking place on the steps further up and some of the lads are yelling profanities at some of the mothers (not necessarily their own) and vice versa.
O, to be in England…not.
If its any consolation, it was a hell of a game! Although, I am not liking this trend of ties and lone scores.
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Dull, isn’t it?
Oh my goodness! It’s sure not like that here in Hawaii. I hear soccer is gaining popularity here in Hawaii now also though. It’s amazing to read your account of the football fervor in your area.
The problem is really out-of-control youths, I’m afraid. Can I come and live with you in Hawaii?
Now my loathing of the ugly game has been re-inforced. Poor you, and all the peace-lovers around you.
ViV
Don’t blame the beautiful game! I feel tomorrow’s blog post coming on…
You certainly have a lot of excitement in your neighborhood. I have never understood fanaticism, of any sort.
Now Tilly, if you went out to , say a Poetry evening, all this stuff and nonsense would be over and done with by the time you got home… have I hinted enough now?
Hi Sis, sounds like a typical Murphy familiy reunion to be honest – except for the swearing, Nan would never have allowed that. I remember Dad getting punched out by Uncle Matty one Christmas Eve when we had a party at Nan’s flat. I never found out what it was about but Dad had a massive shiner and they didn’t speak to each other for a long time.
On the subject of football itself, it seems that the whole of Jo’burg knocked off work early on Friday, when I left at 2pm I didn’t even attempt to get onto the highway but took the back roads home, even so it took nearly two hours to travel the 15Km. Strangely enough even though the traffic was backed up everywhere I didn’t see any signs of people getting angry or impatient, all you could hear was the sound of Vuvzela’s, car horns and people generally enjoying themselves. I haven’t heard any news of tourists being robbed or mugged on the news, something that has been the greatest fear, generally unvoiced by the event organisers, of people who actually live here. Tracey and I have decided to give the pubs and clubs etc a miss for this month but as our wedding anniversary falls on the 11th July we thought we would book a restaurant despite it being the day of the final. After doing a tour of our favourite restaurants on Saturday we gave up on that idea and booked a table at a place quite close to us on the 10th.
Happy days!