Well, crap.
England 3, Australia 1 in the women's World Cup semis this morning, and there goes all the fun. The Matildas got behind, leveled it with Sam Kerr's ridiculous rip to the far top corner off a run, and then ...
And then England scored. And then England scored again. And the worst part, other than the Brits pooping on the everyone's party but theirs, was you knew somewhere some snobbish Sir Topham Hatt, Earl of Nose-In-The-Air-Shire, was sniffing contemptuously and smiling an indulgent smile.
"Well, of course, we beat the Aussies," you can hear him saying. "Riffraff, after all.”
Which refers to Australia's roots as a penal colony, where England used to banish all the riffraff when they got in the way of the latest fox hunt. That the riffraff were more interesting, and gave the Brits character while they ran around subduing Boers and Zulus and the Irish, was perhaps why most of us were rooting for the Matildas.
They put up a game fight. the Matildas did. But England ruled again.
Well, crap.
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