Country Rhodes

Sundown on South Africa

Greetings, gentle readers.
So we've left the southern hemisphere and are now situated in England.  There are a few strange anecdotes yet to be related from the Cape Peninsula and surrounding areas, but, aside from the one involving an odd American woman who kept taking my photograph at the Mount Nelson Hotel in Cape Town, very few of them are likely to hold any interest at all for a neutral observer.  I've also taken some panoramic photos from the Cecil John Rhodes Monument overlooking Cape Town, but I have no idea how that format will display in this medium.  So I'll take a break from the travelogue for a bit and instead hold forth on the Liverpool game at Craven Cottage that I attended yesterday.

More like Bob Denver

Compared to the last Liverpool game that I attended at Anfield, this was an affair characterized by a much greater degree of crowd intensity and participation.  Smoke bombs, banners, flags, flares, firecracker explosions, stomping, clapping... lusty, bawdy songs... the whole shebang.  Whatever a shebang is.  If it's anything like an interrobang, it might be appropriate.

♪ Take me home / Al-Fayed
To the place / where I come from,
Craven Cottage / by the river
Take me home / Al-Fayed ♪

Well, I don't know if it's possible for the thought of "Country Roads" being used to serenade an Egyptian billionaire to cause John Denver to turn over in his grave, but he might try and cleanse the stigma by washing up on shore again.
The game started brightly.  Literally.  Pink smoke billowed from five or six canisters in the crowd and the eighteen yard-box in front of the Putney End, where Mark Schwarzer tried to tend his net despite being out-of-contract at the end of the season, and wondering how his career arc will continue.  He's 40 years old, and he's got to be considering the option of playing out the string for some semi-professional Australian Hyundai A-League side.
As the ground crew cleaned off the flares from the scorched earth of the pitch, the teams walked onto the field.  Jamie Carragher, captain on the day, waved at the away end as we all bellowed out "♪We all dream / of a team of Carraghers / A team of Carraghers / A team of Carraghers."
Somehow, the lackadaisical and languid Dimitar Berbatov, despite looking as though he couldn't be arsed to break into a canter during 99% of the game, scored for Fulham during a ghastly defensive breakdown in the first half.  That caused a hiccough in the baying Liverpool support's torrent of song, sound, and vision. But soon there was cause for jubilation once more as Daniel Sturridge equalized for the Scouse side.
Sturridge went on to complete a hat-trick, and Fulham were deservedly put to the sword.  There were a few open goals that went begging — Jonjo Shelvey particularly profligate on one occasion — and some very selfish play on the break as Liverpool looked to run up a cricket score.  The final goal was particularly interesting, as Sturridge cut in from the left and chipped Schwarzer.  The entire Putney End stand was on its collective feet as we watched the ball go up, up, up... higher than the level of the crossbar... hang there interminably as our mouths dangled agape... until finally dropping under the crossbar to an ejaculation of celebratory screams and shouts, as well as the punctuation of firecracker booms.  The captain took some lessons in goal celebrations from the hat-trick hero and the "team of Carraghers" song echoed out through the grey, chilly afternoon.
The other cute point of note (aside from my comments on twitter: https://twitter.com/JdCilantro) was the late introduction of John Arne Riise on the left side of the Fulham defence.  His first act was to lash a free-kick at Pepe Reina.  Reina saved comfortably down and to his left, but from that moment on, the travelling Liverpool support sang his song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hY4yUhjR6pk) several times, serenading him off the pitch after the whistle.  Great to see that everyone still treats servants of the club with reverence, despite their current allegiances.  Riise waved and clapped at the away stand as he left the field following the conclusion of the match, to the delight of the red-clad mob.
I've got to run, since I'm currently in the breakfast room, and people want to eat their dry cereal near the power socket that I'm using.
Goodnight England and the colonies,
—mARKUS