Wednesday, October 17, 2007


The first time I came to Greece, two years ago, I was scared silly to hear the sustained roar of many male voices rising from the streets, everywhere around. Especially from “The Drunken Duck,” also from the taverna, also from teenagers outside them. I assumed it was a riot. No, it was the sound of rejoicing; it meant Greece had scored!

Whoever explained that to me looked at me as though I were the weirdest creature on earth, not to know all about soccer! And I remember going to a taverna with Demetrios and Christos and choosing a seat where we could not see the taverna’s TV, and the proprietor marveling. Finally, he thought he had it figured out: “The lady does not care for football?” he inquired.

Well, none of us does, particularly.

But tonight was different. Tonight Greece was playing Turkey, for one thing. For another, the outcome of this game would determine whether Greece would be a finalist for the European championship.

YES! Greece, 1, Turkey, 0.

I hate suspense; the last 4 minutes of the game were the worst four minutes of my day!