Last night, Valencia CF beat Getafe 3 – 1, to win the Spain’s Copa del Rey.
Guests had just arrived for a visit, so we decided to skip watching the game in favor of dinner at El Albero (a decision I had been opposed to — guests schmests, hunger schmonger). Luckily, the good people of Valencia kept us fully aware of the game’s progress while we were eating. When Valencia scored their first goal, I could faintly hear cheering coming from the back of the restaurant. “How nice”, I thought, taking a sip of beer. “Valencia seems to have scor…”
Someone had lit a very loud, celebratory firecracker in the street right next to us. I spilled beer all over myself and the table. Our guests from Germany — whose eardrums haven’t yet been calloused and scarred by the city’s obsession with firecrackers — spent the next 10 minutes shivering. And just when they had calmed down: another goal. This time, Juergen spilled his beer and I watched a thin, bright stream of blood trickle out of Sonja’s left ear.
Oh, Valencia. You’re so cute.
We did manage to watch the end of the game. It’s incredible that they won the cup, considering how horrible their year has been. VCF is near the relegation zone in the domestic league, and had lost their last 3 matches. But last night’s victory means that they’ll get to play European football next year, which is a massive accomplishment.
So, I take it you were unable to order or eat your food (since there were no food pics) as you fled in pain and panic to the ER…or back home to change soiled lenceria’s. Too bad Chuckie wasn’t with you. It would have been the final artery-buster for that ugly demon-dog.