First live game of the World Cup

Greetings gentle readers.
Well, after dozens of hours of travel, a thoroughly ruined biological sense of sleep-wake cycles, trials, tribulations, and living in an icebox for half a week, I`m finally getting ready for my first live match.  Yeesh.  After all of the sacrifices and expenses, we`ll finally see if this is worth it.  Or see if it`s nothing but a vuvuzela festival that results in ear-splitting headaches and possible irreversible brain damage with a scoreless, meaningless, and dour footy match to add mediocrity to the occasion.  Worst case scenario.  Just bracing myself.
Saw the South Korea v. Argentina game in one of the big casinos along the strand in Happy Valley last night.  That was interesting, if only because of the two tiers of fans.  The bar-sports-lounge area is semi-circular, with another ring of horseshoe booths facing the large screen at the centre.  One row above that is a long bar with stools.  The Korean contingent sat in the booths, the Argentinians sat above them on bar stools.  The loudest cries of the night came on the Korean goal, since the Koreans greatly outnumbered the Argentina fans, but one Argentina fan, loudly braying his support and waving his over-sized flag, seemed determined to rub their faces in the lopsided loss.  I just thought it was ironic that the lad was wearing a Juan-Roman Riquélme jersey... one of the players that was unmercifully chopped from the squad by Maradona.
A bit of joy for South Korean fans, though, as Nigeria shot themselves in both proverbial feet, and managed to get a mittful of players suspended for the last group game.  Korea should be able to handily make it past whatever makeshift outfit of patchwork players Nigeria can field, despite the fact that Nigeria has already been confirmed as the first team to go home.  They`re out, they`re demoralized, and their ranks are decimated.  South Korea looks as though they can still grab second as long as Argentina keep improving and smoke Greece.
Bought a new German kit, so my father and I should both be able to go to the game wearing the colours.  Will try and snag an oversized flag along the way to the park-and-ride, but wish that I had a large marker so that I could write "Für Robert" on it.  Interestingly enough, we got the tickets from my cousin Yvette, who had to pay about 40 rand for them.  That`s a little less than six Canadian dollars.  She fits into Category 4 - locals. Category 1 - rich Americans - have to pay over ten times as much for the same ticket.  And fight over the internet for the lottery rights to do so.  And then get plane tickets.  If you see clusters of empty seats - a lot of them are the result of people entering for a lottery shot at a whack of tickets, and then either getting more than they need, or being unable to attend because they didn`t make their travel plans early enough.  FIFA is really nasty about the resale of tickets.  My father and I have to carry a letter from my cousin and a photocopy of her South African birth certificate in order to explain why her name is on our tickets.
The tickets for the round-of-sixteen game are about four to five times as expensive for all categories.  Incidentally, I may have found a connection that can get us tickets to the semi-final game in Cape Town, so there may be more fun and excitement on the horizon.  Just hoping that the Germans or the English are still afloat by that point.  Bafana Bafana is hanging by the most ridiculous of threads.  They have to play to goal-differential, hoping that Uruguay beats the living excrement out of Mexico, and that they cream France with the awesome power of righteousness normally associated with apocalypse mythology.  There`s seven goals of differential, so it doesn`t really matter which game has the lopsided scoreline, or even if both do.  If Uruguay wins 6-0 and South Africa wins 1-0, the net result is the same as Uruguay winning 2-0, and South Africa winning 5-0.  As I said, the odds are hanging by a pretty ridiculously, perilously thin thread.  Stranger things have happened, but usually only in host countries run my military juntas.
In any event, I hope I get the quotation right, but I trust that Gary Lineker`s explanation of footy holds true this afternoon:
"Football is a simple game where 22 men chase a ball for 90 minutes... and then the Germans win."
I should be back at my Uncle Joey`s place this afternoon after the game, so I should be able to resume my rambling without taxing my 3G USB modem too greatly.  I have no idea how my account is billed on this thing, so I don`t know how much wireless access I can use before I need to recharge the thing.
Until then, Deutschland über alles, and all that.  Would tell you where my seats are, but that would probably be meaningless.  Probably in the nosebleeds somewhere.  Weather looks to be reasonable today, so I shouldn`t freeze my tuckus off. Hoping to hit mid 20`s in terms of °C.  Yum.  May even defrost a little.
Until then, good night England and the colonies.
Cheers,
—mARKUS