All a bit nail biting

We hunkered down in front of the telly in a bar last night with copious quantities of alcoholic beverage on hand and an oversupply of small rolls crammed with pig products. We were right at the very front of the room only a couple of metres from the huge telly. The telly hung on a mirrored wall so we could see what was going on in the bar behind us.

As the game progressed and the home team seemed unable to gain its normal rhythm the punters in the bar got quieter and quieter and faces glummer and glummer. Fortunately the Portuguese, Britains's oldest allies, seemed to be afflicted with the same problem as England and had sufficient difficulty in kicking a football into the back of a net from 12 miserable yards away. And maybe that man Casillas had a small part to play too.

The celebrations, at least in the middle of town, were surprisingly low key.

Sunday then.

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