The Dream

It's time to break out the 24 year old dream story. This is the one for any amateur, or practicing, psychoanalysts, dream readers, or anybody of that ilk. Here's a case study for you.

A few weeks before Italia '90, I had a dream. Yes, it sadly was about football and specifically about the upcoming World Cup.  It was vivid, it felt very real and, it has to be said, it eerily became a true happening event. This is not made up, not embellished. This is what happened.

It was a few weeks before the World Cup. Not sure exactly how long before. For some reason (an unimportant fact) I missed the World Cup (this could be turning into an unimaginable nightmare!). I got back home, from wherever I was, and asked my Dad if the English supporters caused any trouble in Italy. This was the time when "hooliganism" and "English football'', in the eyes of the world, went together as well as Yorkshire pudding and Sunday roast, or Wimbledon and rain. He told me that they behaved except for when England played in Bari.

The next day, dream over, I check the schedule. England are playing their first round matches in Sardinia, so that the English and Dutch fans can battle it out together with the Irish, who are more interested in looking for a pub and a good laugh, and the bemused, and unlucky,  Egyptians. And they will be far away from the mainland to be of any nuisance to the locals. I guess the Italians didn't really care about the Sardinian locals. After figuring out all the possible combinations for the second round, there is no possibility of England playing in Bari. Same for the quarter finals and semis. And this is taking every possibility into consideration. There is only one way that England play in Bari: if they are in the match that nobody remembers, the losers' match, the 3rd/4th place play-off. So they have to lose in the semi-final.

It doesn't look very likely in a typically terrible opening group phase for England. But, there they go, off to the second round, where David Platt becomes a known name with his Platt-which-way-are-you-swivellling extra time on-the-volley winner against Belgium. And the feeling starts to grow. Could this dream actually happen? Into the quarter finals and Cameroon are winning 2-1 and I'm thinking, it's ok, England will win this. Sure enough the Cameroonians all of a sudden forget quite what they're doing and get a little over enthusiastic with their tackling. Two Gary Lineker penalties later and I'm a step closer to believing that the dreams do come true.

The night before England's semi against Germany, there is much excitement in Malta as Italy lose to Argentina. The Italians are out! Now England will get to the final! Why the excitement in Malta has to be explained another day. But, by now I am so convinced that the dream is playing out that I not only have my usual no faith in England, I also feel I know that England will lose.

Germany score through a lucky deflected free-kick and, even though, I am watching with no hope a strange second sensation starts, that England will not lose like this. And, boom, Lineker, equalizes and we're off to extra time. Of course England lose on penalties but this time I am not surprised or disappointed. It's easy not to be disappointed when you've had about 5 weeks to preempt that feeling of disappointment and prepare for it.

England would lose against Italy in the battle of the wish-we-weren't here teams. It turned out to be more friendly than a friendly. A short while later David Platt played for Bari and I always remember that strange looking stadium, with it's white sun-shade type roof and pods of seats in the top level which looked like they'd been snapped onto the rest of the stadium.

As Brazil comes closer I will myself to dream about Neymar scoring a counter attack end-to-end winner against Argentina in the last minute of this year's final......or maybe Adam Lallana popping up to hit the World Cup winner for England. Just a dream maybe.......