Wow, so Italy won the World Cup. I won’t even try to make sense of the massive outpouring of blog posts on the matter, but suffice to say that I’m not the only person to be suprised.
(With my couple-of-generations-removed Italian heritage, does that make me some sort of heathen unbeliever?)

Also last night: Roger Federer won Wimbledon. Again.

I swear that this man is increasingly looking unstoppable, at least when he’s off the clay. One day I might even be able to say “ahh, back in my day, we watched Roger Federer!” and the young ‘uns will know who I’m talking about.

(Oh, and Amelie Mauresmo did a reasonable job herself the other day, nicely complementing her Aussie Open win …)

Maybe it’s better, in an ignorance-is-bliss kind of way, that I missed the big game last night

There’s lots of disappointment, with even poor Johnny expressing sadness (on that note, perhaps we can blame Italian politics?). I can only imagine what vitriol was cast at the referees around this country’s pubs and big outdoor screens.

Indeed, there is almost universal disgust at the refereeing … although it’s probably just blame-shifting for a team that was good but perhaps not great. At least the ride was fun while it lasted.

And as many people have noted, there is an important legacy: ‘Australia’ and ‘soccer’ (‘football’, if you prefer) will never again be two words that look weird next to each other.