At a World Cup Match

When i purchased my ticket for the England versus Slovenia match in Cape Town, i was expecting that England would already high and dry. However after two extremely poor performances this has become, in the words of England captain Steven Gerrard, a "do or die" match.

I depart from my digs in Port Elizabeth at 2pm and make my way towards the beach-front to pick up the shuttle bus to the stadium. As I wait for the bus to arrive a mixed group of middle-aged English fans come down the road drinking bottles of beer. A police car pulls up alongside them and informs them that drinking on the street is not allowed. A torrent of abuse ensues as the fans begrudgingly carefully place the bottles in the bin. An officer gets out of the vehicle and ensures the beer is poured out of the bottles, before driving off. By this time the fans are livid. “The fucking bastard monkeys are just cunts” says the troop leader, a large Neanderthal Londoner. The others concur as we cram into a mini-bus.

The other passengers are also middle-aged and are from the Midlands, a mixture of Birmingham and Wolverhampton supporters who share stories of defecating in their showers at their lodgings... I can only hope the bus driver can’t decipher their Thick Central England accents. Meanwhile the Londoner is still upset about his run-in with the local police. “The monkey-cunts won’t know what hits them if England go out of the cup today”. A real charmer!

I arrive at the beautiful stadium in Nelson Mandela Bay and the crowds and lines outside are large. About 70% of the fans are from England who chant their local club’s names, pour hatred on their rivals and sing songs about certain manager’s and players being pedophiles. Fortunately, the queues move quite fast and after being body-searched twice, I enter into the stadium at 3.20pm. The stands are well-labeled and i am quickly able to locate my seat.

About half the seats are empty in the area i am sitting. However there is a large group of Slovenians who are in good voice and remain standing throughout the entirety of the game despite the efforts of police and security guards pleading with them to take their seats. The ground (known as “the sunflower” because of the petal-like shape of the roof) can hold up to 48.000 is only filled with some 36,800 supporters.

To my immediate right is a family from Derby living in Durban. The two teenage boys spend all their time on their phones, their Mom looks on smiling and their father wraps an English flag with Derby County scrawled across and begins on his air horn and chanting “I’m England till I die” in between cussing all and sundry as the Slovenians warm up on the pitch. I’d like to think I’m much more global than that! Inspired by Dad, the teenagers join in with his industrial language.Mum meanwhile scans the myriad of England flags that are draped around the stadium and points to a couple more Derby County supporters.

At 3.50pm the players come out of the tunnel to a crescendo of noise. It’s like sticking your head into a hornets’ nest with the vuvuzelas shrieking out.

The first 10 minutes are a very cagey affair, but England begin to string a few passes together. Standing in front of me is a young Frank Lampard look-alike and his 12 year old girlfriend shrouded in a Union Jack. Frankie Junior spends much of the game out of his seat, screaming out “well done my son” whilst his prepubescent girlfriend looks on adoringly.

Meanwhile, every time England captain gets close to the ball Mrs Derby shouts “go for it Stevie G” – clearly the only player she can recognise. This continues for the full 93 minutes.

England start playing some football – at last- and begin to string a few passing movements together. However, both Johnson and Barry are guilty of needlessly giving the ball away. Nonetheless, England are in the ascendancy with both a Lampard 35 yard free-kick, Rooney having a shot blocked and Johnson having his shot easily saved by Slovenia keeper Samir Handanovic.

England take a deserved lead through a Defoe volley from a Milner cross in the 23rd minute, and the huge sense of relief is clearly felt from the England fans. For some 10 minutes England look reasonably comfortable, without looking particularly threatening.

I take a much needed smoke break at half time – only available at the entry point to the stadium, the rest being smoke-free. Not surprisingly the bar and refreshment outlets have overpriced their products with Hamburgers at ZAR 35, hotdogs (ZAR25) and a Budweiser beer selling at ZAR30.

England begin brightly in the second half. Defoe got a touch to Gerrard's shot but the ball flashed inches wide. Then Defoe had the ball in the net again, but his provider Rooney was marginally offside.

From a Barry corner, Terry climbed to head goal-wards at the far post only to be denied by the competent Handanovic. The keeper also got his fingertips to Rooney's shot from 12 yards, turning it on to the foot of his right-hand post. All Rooney can do is stare in complete disbelief.

As long as England only had one goal in the credit column it was going to be a nervous time. It took strong blocks by Terry and Johnson to preserve their advantage. Joe Cole finally made his World Cup entry when he replaced an injured Rooney with 18 minutes left.

But, as the clock ticked over to the 90-minute mark, it took a heroic tackle from Matthew Upson to block the Slovenians from scoring from 10 yards. Indeed the last fifteen minutes are decidedly nervous.

One can here the sighs of relief from the fans at the final whistle. England have guaranteed 2nd spot, thus progressing to the knockout stage of these finals. The players (minus Joe Cole) group hug at the end of the game as if they have won the tournament, before many players going over to thank the die-hard England fans.

The England performance has been better, but still far off being World class.

The crowds are busy, but the shuttle-buses efficient enough to ensure an escape from the stadium, with most of the English fans heading directly to the pub. I have had more than enough of the company of English folk and return back to the digs to hang with the Chileans.

With Donovan scoring a goal in injury time, it is Team USA that finish top of Group C, setting up a match with Ghana, whilst leaving England with their backs to the wall against arch-rivals Germany in Bloemfontein. I won’t be going, but I will be watching it from a bar somewhere further up the coast.

American friend Carie the Book is ecstatic, and so is Ying, although judging by her crowing email, she seems to be under the misapprehension that only the USA has qualified. Hope you are eating your humble pie now Gal – you’ll need it for your 75 mile cycle ride this weekend.

My Born Again Christian taxi driver fails to pick me up at 5.30am this morning and i now find myself stuck in Port Elizabeth until Saturday. Not good! Making life even more trickier, my HSBC credit card and Internet banking has been suspended, possibly through suspicion of theft – it has taken a lot of abuse recently. I am now at the mercy of my UK ATM card. Shit happens! On the bright side I have no deadline to meet, the weather is warm, i have been transferred to a more central location and the local people are warm and friendly.

Chant of the Day, sung to the tune of “She’ll be coming round the mountain” – “You can shove your vuvuzelas up your arse”.