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July 17, 2006 | by  | in Opinion |
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Pâté en croûte Français

(It’s 9:05am, July 10th 2006, and I find myself sitting at a piano contemplating the last four or so weeks. Suddenly, it hits me; ‘Don McLean – American Pie’)…

Zidane pic. A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that Frenchie used to make them smile. And now that Holland had no chance, I decided to back France, And maybe laud that Frenchie and his style. But July the 10th made us shiver, an act of madness made us quiver, Bad news out of Berlin, Les Bluez weren’t going to win. I do remember that he tried, to salvage a piece of Frenchie pride, But an Italian pissed him off deep inside, The day the Frenchmen cried…

So why, why, Zinedine? Oh, dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye. You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry”.

Did you know in ’98, the whole world thought that you were great? And your footwork proved it so. Oh, did you see, it must’ve been a thrill, when you trampled all over Brazil And sent the world of Football into a spin. Well, then came 2002, and it looked like you didn’t have a clue, Les Bluez got utterly spanked, you had nothing in the tank So, back to Spain without a hitch, trying to regain form upon the pitch, In spite of Beckham, that little bitch, On the day the Frenchmen cried…

We were singing… why, why, Zinedine oh dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye. You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry”.

Helter-skelter in a German swelter, 2006 and there’s just no shelter From a month of Football maaaad… …ness, or miss, another goal, Brazil did try, god bless their soul, But the hand of God was pointing towards you. So, 34, you did not wheeze, even when your opponents were Portuguese, The crowd got up to dance, with the bikini-clad chicks from France. And the players stood upon the field, one penalty goal and their fate was sealed, Zinedine is God, it was revealed. But on the day the Frenchmen cried…

We were singing… why, why, Zinedine oh dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry.” On the other side, breaking Aussie hearts, was a team of diving Italian tarts, With the eyes of the world upon them again. As they powered along the chain, slicing in half the hapless Ukraine, They marched to Munich with Deutschland on the brain. That game was tort, then with a thud, the Italians drew first German blood, The land of Chocolate stopped, as their herzen suddenly dropped. Oh! Who would’ve picked this final two, with both countries in sporting blue? It simply was too good to be true, The day the Frenchmen cried.

We were singing… why, why, Zinedine oh dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye. You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry”.

The final came, the teams shook hands, silence reigned in their respective lands As the game of the year unfolded so. I was up at 5am, and it was if I could almost hear them, Cheer that Frenchie as he slotted his first goal. But then as I watched his feelings rage, I wondered if it’d all been staged. They talked about his Mum, a move inherently dumb, The Frenchie stood, took one last look, and with his head the chest he shook. The silly bastard was shown the book. The day the Frenchmen cried.

We were singing… why, why, Zinedine oh dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye. You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry”.

Why, why, Zinedine oh dear why? This world cup should be your cup, now there’s tears in your eye. You left the field, kissed your career goodbye Singing, “Guess there’s nothing to do but cry, guess there’s nothing to do but cry”.

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