Alvin’s Weblog

The World Cup might be over but the fever sure stayed on with me. This year’s World Cup was slightly special for me. We have all got to admit that this is one of the weirdest and most controversial World Cup ever. There was this referee who handed out 9 yellow cards and 5 red cards in one single match. That’s a world breaking record of 14 cards in total. Unbelievable? Believe it.

What was so special about this World Cup? Well, I went right down to the heart of KL for the finals. The whole stretch of road leading to Federal hotel was completely sealed off for the big screen finals. Organized by Maxis, 3 big screens were set up for the big event. Even before 9 p.m., the heart of KL was already crowded with people from everywhere.

Italian supporters were everywhere. Whenever someone passed with a gigantic Italian flag, almost everyone would be cheering their lungs out. I was the total opposite. I supported France but didn’t dare to shout out loud. See, I didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere. I don’t want to waste my life just because I decided to cheer for France. How crowded exactly was the place, you ask? Well, I’ll just let the photos do the talking. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Five minutes into the game, Zidane scored with a miraculous penalty kick and France supporters were shouting their lungs out, me included, that I swear those Italian supporters were stunned they never knew there were so many France supporters there that night.

There was this Chinese middle age lady sitting right behind me, talking so loud I swear she was louder than the whole fucking crowd. She got so irritating that I screamed so loud when Zidane scored just to tell her she should just shut the fuck up. She ain’t know shit about football and she talked like she was the manager. To make things worse, she made it sound like the only strategy in football is to kick the god damn ball into the goal, by hook or by crook, even if it was half a field away. I bet cha, if she was the coach, I could even kick those Italians ass back to Italy and I’ll shove some Italian pizza up her candy ass, use some spaghetti to slap her on her face and kick her sending her all the way to Italy while shouting “Forza Italia” at her. Damn annoying OK!!! Don’t talk about her, I damn tulan think about her.

After half time, I was forced to leave as all the monkeys started flocking into the streets. The already cramped area was just barely enough to sit and some monkeys who were initially standing by the road side came and squeezed into the remaining space and was shouting, “Oi, pergi depan la, ada tempat lagi.” I was like, “Fuck you! I can’t even seat properly anymore. You monkeys, shoo shooo… go hang up in the tree.” They forced their way in anyway, so I was forced to leave. I can’t stand monkeys like that. I’d rather watch from the mamak stall.

Anyway, Italy reigned victorious that night. It was a tough but good match. Both teams were pretty good until the last minutes of the second extra time when Zidane shockingly headbutted Matterrazi. For a moment, I was shocked and I didn’t know what happened. “What the fuck was Zidane thinking? Shaolin soccer? Few minutes to end the game and he fucked up? Great!!!”

A few days later, the papers allegedly reported that Matterazzi insulted Zidane’s mom and sister calling them a whore and also calling Zidane a terrorist. Now, now, Matterazzi, deny all you want but I’ll just shove some Italian pizza up your ass each time you speak that you’d be crying and begging me to spare your poor asshole. Didn’t your mamma told cha not to talk about other people’s mom like that? You monkey, don’t act innocent. You don’t know what a terrorist is? Go wank yourself. Even a wanker like me who is nothing to the world follows the news and knows what a terrorist is and you don’t know? That’s insulting my intelligence!! Enough said.

For those who think I am anti Italian, NO! I love spaghetti and I love pizzas, so how could I? I do not condone Zidane’s act but that monkey really deserved it, just like that irritating woman seating behind me. Here’s a joke version of the conversation between Materrazzi and Zidane(just for the fun of it):

Matterazzi: *Rubbing Zidane’s body* Mmm, you have got a nice chest there. I like!
Zidane: Hey monkey, get your hands off me. You can have my shirt later if you want it so much.
Matterazzi: No I want you, you hot terrorist man. Your whore mamma and sista aren’t as good. You smell good too.
Zidane: Fuck you, monkey!
Matterrazi: Come on, gimme your head. They look so bald and sexy.
Zidane: *Running forward, turning back and slamming his head into Matterazi’s chest*
Zidane: Here monkey, fuck you! Forza Italia!!!
Matterazzi: Ahhh, that felt sooo good!

All jokes aside, I will still conclude with 3 words, “Fuck you, Matterrazi!!!”

Ahh, when the finals were over, it was 5 a.m. when I returned home. Needless to say, I was like a walking zombie in the office the next day. That night after work, I came back, dropped onto the bed and just dozed off until the next morning. That was how tired I was. As I am writing this, it’s already 3 a.m. and if I don’t go to sleep soon, I’ll be a walking zombie again. So I’ll get going now and I’ll be updating soon. See you guys and keep updated!