For the past 2 hours the entire country was silent. All those who were fortunate enough to stay in their homes, or brave enough to call in "sick" had their eyes glued on the television, watching in agitated anticipation as events unfolded thousands of miles away. The less privileged who found themselves at school or work had strained their ears to catch every word of the commentator as he described the going-ons in Baharain.
But when the final whistle blew, that silence that had envelopped the country, was shattered by shouts, screams, laughter, honking horns (oh my! The honking horns!) and even the old-fashioned clanging of bottles and spoons.
It was absolutely amazing.
I am not a particularly avid football fan, but I could not help but be infected by the drama and excitement of today. Today. When thousands of miles away, Trinidad & Tobago was playing a game that decided whether we would, for the first time in our history, earn a spot in the World Cup. An auspiscious achievement for a country of only 1.5 million people.
And we did it. We fucking did it.
Trinidad & Tobago 1 - Baharain 0
It was so gratifying to hear my neighbourhood erupt into jubilation, knowing that they felt the same way I did. It was also surprising. Honestly, before that game ended, I thought I was the only person in my neighbourhood. It was just that quiet and the street was absolutely deserted. Now I know that is because they were all inside watching the game like I was.
It was a tense game. Very tense. My arsehole was clenched so tight that I could have probably swallowed coal, and shit diamonds. There were SO many close calls, the agitation of each team evident as the game wound down closer and closer to its end. But I must say, the better team did win. And not just because I am biased. But that too.
So now Trinidad is on the road to Germany.
Now that I have... Okay.. I just paused in writing this to answer the phone. It was my mother. I literally had to hold the phone away from my ear to prevent my ear drums from exploding. My mother is in the capital city of Port-of-Spain, right now, and she called so that I could listen in on the sounds of celebration.
The blaring sounds of horns were swallowing some of her words, as well as the shouts and screams of persons behind her.
"Every car that is passing is just blowing its horns. Everybody is out on the streets, all of them are wearing red. [Red is the official patriotic colour of Trinidad].All the workers have stopped working to come out..." - Mom
You have to understand. This is history. This is passion. This is football.
But I cannot linger here forever. ACCA won't allow me an extra 5 marks because I spent a day celebrating my country earning a spot in The World Cup, 2006, in Germany. So I have to go study.
Fuck! I'm still hearing horns blaring!