rhapsodust (rhapsodust) wrote,
rhapsodust
rhapsodust

The fates preordained that it would all end in a glorious triumph for Arsenal. The script was written thus: a young inexperienced side, led by thierry henry, overcoming all odds to reach the champions league final; A final that was to be held at paris, in whose suburbs henry learnt his trade. Lehmann had saved a penalty in the 89th minute against Villareal in the semifinal, to secure a passage through to the finals for Arsenal. Glory to the arsenal! The night began with much pomp and ceremony, and arsenal started brightly with a beautiful touch by henry, only to be denied by a save.

We believed. A while later, a through ball is played, eto breaks free and is brought down by lehmann at the edge of the penalty area. lehmann is sent off and belief is suspended. It was meant to be a spectacle, the cries ring out. Barcelona attack in waves. Cut to a later scene, and it flashed by oh so quickly: henry, a free kick at the right hand side, campbell rises and scores! Arsenal are a goal up. We believed. If we had forgotten, this was fate telling us it was on our side. For fifty further minutes we held on; A few sequences willl remain in the memory; eto hitting the post, henry missing two chances; 75th minute and 1-0, we believed.

10 minutes later and barcelona are 2-1 up, oh arsenal had been brave but it was not enough.

I switch off my TV, all the nervous excitement replaced by a cold numbness that I am sure I will shake off before I sleep. walk to my room, and there's a balmy breeze, bless my soul, a cold breeze after ages! I do not remember the last time I felt a cold breeze in madras. It rained at paris, and the breeze blew all the way here. Rain and music are interlinked for me by one song in particular: floods, pantera. Wind up the ol winamp.

What does one do? Smile a knowing smile, stare out of the window into the street, and ponder about the meaning of life, pause for a moment or two, smile and move on. We move on.
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