Today I am mostly....feeling Irish

[12.30pm] Just about to settle down to watch Ireland v Germany, kicking off now, and I confess I feel slightly more excited and more nervous about this game than I did about England v Sweden. I am also feeling considerably less sick than I did on Sunday morning, when I drove to the Wellington in glorious sunshine for 10.30am, getting there three minutes into the game; not bad considering I'd been out clubbing until about 4am. I felt pleased with myself for having managed it, then tried to squeeze into the room with the video screen, packed as it was with lesbians and gays from the Gay Football Supporters' Network, visiting Brum for Pride weekend as their annual jaunt away. No sooner had I fought my way to the bar and bought a bottle of water, than the heat in the room started to cause a few waves of nausea, and then one whiff of a cigarette was enough to send me scurrying out of the room, and off pronto to the loo, where I had to sit for ten minutes, drinking water, until the nausea subsided. I wasn't actually sick, but it was close. I stood by the door for the rest of the game, able to see the screen, but not concentrating very well, and had to sit outside on the street during half time.


Today though, I am metaphorically putting on my Irish hat. Like many British people, I've always supported Ireland as my 'second' national football team. I've always considered myself to be one quarter Irish anyway, by virtue of one Irish-born grandparent (and likewise one quarter Welsh and half English). It's only in the last eighteen months though, since I started researching my family history, that I've discovered the true extent of my Irish bloodline. I now know that my roots go back to Ireland in three out of four directions, and I have details of my direct Irish ascendants going back to at least 1850. So I'm feeling more interested in today's game. I watched Ireland's first game, live on Saturday morning, in the comfort of my ex-boyfriend's hotel room, as he was up from London for the GFSN weekend. Obviously, I had just popped round for breakfast at 7.30am. Cough, splutter!

I was contemplating seeing this Ireland v Germany game up the road at O'Neill's pub in Moseley, which I'm sure will be rammed. However, I've only just this minute finished and e-mailed my 1,100 word Brum Pride report to Gay Times, so I'll have to stay in now. Oh bugger! Germany have just scored. Must go and sit by the big TV.

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