England play again today in the World Cup. The match against Trinidad & Tobago at Nuremberg--almost a literal stone's throw away from the site of some of Hitler's famous rallies, preserved as a warning for future generations--should be an easy one for England, but after their lacklustre opening against Paraguay, fans should probably take nothing for granted. This is England, remember: eleven great players, one middling team.
But my enthusiasm for the game has been blunted somewhat by events outside of football. A friend of a friend died suddenly on Monday; she lived alone (as I do) and wasn't found until Wednesday morning, when my worried friend went to check on her. So yesterday was a hard day, and football suddenly doesn't seem that important. Though in a sense--since life is so short and so cruel--the things and people we love are all that we should consider important. "Everything else, drunken dumbshow," as Allen Ginsberg says.

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