World Cup Dreams

The Final

It started at midnight, somehow when the clock ticked onto that elusive hour the atmosphere changed. Although many were in their beds, electricity seemed to spark from millions upon millions of people. This was it, today was the World Cup final.

As the sun rose so too did the people, that glow of excitement in their eyes, every pore of their bodies spilling forth hope. Today one set of fans would be joyous and the other would be crushed with despair.

As television sets across the lands were turned on, the build up to the greatest match on earth had started already. Every former footballer, ex and current manager, pundit, celebrity and average joe plucked from the street were offered the opportunity to give their opinion. Who would win? What would the score be? Who would be the most important player on the pitch?

At such an early hour social media had gone into meltdown, #worldcupfinal trending worldwide. Yet another platform for those with and without knowledge of the teams and the beautiful game to tell the world their thoughts. Not even by midday had every permutation imaginable of result, who would score and who would be the star player been suggested. Some were accepted, many ridiculed.

Betting shops were awash with odds, fuelling the speculation of what would happen. Lunch was harder to force down than any other day as nerves got the better of players and fans alike. Some visibly shaking as they made their way across cities and through countryside to the place they would watch the match.

The stadium, however, was silent. In complete contrast to how noise would shake its foundations when kick off came. The only people who could be seen, were the TV cameras already rolling, were the odd groundsman checking the pitch again and again to make sure it was not only playable but worthy of the match that would take place later in the day. Every fan that walked up the pathway to the stadium, past food vendors and people selling shirts, flags and scarves, stopped and looked up at the stadium. At that point both dread and hope filled their entire bodies, it did not matter which team they supported. This was not the only way all fans were one, both sides drank in the atmosphere, friends, at least, for the minutes and hours before the final started.

A hour or so before kick off the stadium started to fill. Like every league game up and down the country it appeared empty with a few minutes to go but blink and you would miss all the fans appear, the stadium suddenly awash with colour.

At last the fans were able to release all their pent up emotions as the national anthems were played. Tears welled up in many an eye as uncontrollable feelings spilled out. But all too soon the nervous tension was present again. And finally, after hours of waiting, the whistle signalled kick-off.