The Orange Crush

Great voetballers, horrible singers. Hup, Holland, Hup!

I don't know why I keep trying. I DVR the Holland games and then act like I'm going to be able to go all day without hearing about the result. It's never worked.

It didn't work the first game of the Cup, when I walked over to my friend Brian and he greeted me with, "Hey, how 'bout that Nederland victory."

It didn't work against Brazil when every one of my friends texted me congratulations.

It didn't work today when I avoided all human contact, internet surfing, and text message receiving. I made it all the way to 4:30 when my very sports-averse cubicle neighbor leaned over to me and said, "Hey, are you excited that your team won?"

Well, I am now.

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I have been hesitant to call this "Holland's year," for fear of getting my feelings hurt. But we're now just one game away. One 90-minute match.

And no one's going to spoil the ending for me. Sunday afternoon, I'll be watching the game live. Fantastisch!

(Feel free to stop by my house to watch it with me. Don't forget to wear your orange.)