When the Cheshire emerges...

Dear Diary,

It's now 10:54pm and I've been up since 3:30am for the Socceroos game (which was of course match of the night - although I'm a bit annoyed I missed USA; even though I'm not a fan of theirs that game would've been interesting. The only goal in the final minute!...). Hours of sleep: 5 or so... felt it at work all this afternoon and even a bit now. I'm still getting my head around the various events that have filled the day.


I don't know that I can say the Socceroos' loss is the biggest thing that happened. After all, we DID get a new Prime Minister (Julia Gillard - first female PM AND former Unley High scholar... represennnnnt!). But I certainly feel shattered by it. Confused, but shattered. Different environment for this one, I stayed at home with company in my dad and brother. I was hopeful, unlike so many others, that they were capable of a win and that miracles may happen. And for a while it looked like it might. The first goal from Cahill

Diary, I FELL ASLEEEEEEP! It's 7am exactly on Friday morning now, I'm hopeless. SO: The first goal from Cahill was amazing and by that point Mum was even up getting ready for work. So with my dad and brother sitting with me we all saw the marvel that he is. Even Mum got a bit excited. The boys and I were beside ourselves. And when Holman repeated his good form we couldn't believe the good fortune the soccer gods were finally displaying on our team. But alas, it wasn't the perfect game - the goal against us cut deep and the realisation that we still missed out on progressing even with a win still hurts. I didn't even have time to process... after getting ready at half time, I had to rush straight to Fresh (Funny story that, Tim and I legged it up two flights of stairs and with 10 seconds to go made it into the studio before I had to speak. A breathless intro ensued... and then Jase didn't rock up and I did most of the show alone).

Now it's a day later I can reflect a bit better... the win and everything else seemed to be a bit overshadowed - albeit for a good reason (you know, having a new PM and all). But watching The World Cup Show last night (when I was meant to have finished this), Les Murray brought it all back into perspective. His use of Winston Churchill's quote that 'success is never final, failure is never fatal' was absolutely spot on and I felt so moved and inspired by his words; so proud to be an Australian with a team full of fighting spirit. I remember feeling much the same post-2006 when Murray did a similar speech after the loss to Italy. I love how sport can move people much the same as things like music and family. Murray always knows what to say in these situations and I'm so glad I actually tuned in to watch it. And then Craig Foster (deservedly) went and bagged Verbeek. Gold.

Oh, and among all this was also the information that I'd missed history in the making with the longest tennis game ever at Wimbledon. Up to 59-all in the fifth set?! Ridonkulus.