A week dominated by football of the Champions League variety. Tuesday, a trip to the pub to watch the evil red Merchandise United struggle but eventually mount a comeback in time added on to appease a red-faced Scot. Not that I would normally deign to watch the enemy, but a couple of la bienheureuse's colleagues made it a social event.
Then last night the real thing: OL against the red Scouse empire. A battle of two wounded beasts. Two forced substitutions in the first half ensured that Lyon comfortably won the contest of most players on the treatment table, but on the pitch it was a rather more cagey affair. OL inhibited by the knowledge that a draw that would send them through, Liverpool forced to attack but not wanting to risk too much. The visitors thus had the better chances, mostly in the first half, but Lyon keeper Lloris kept them at bay. The action in the 2nd half was even less enthralling apart from one more astonishing save, but then the match exploded into life in the last few minutes. Liverpool's tactics seemed to have paid off when they nicked a thunderbolt goal 7 minutes from time, but Lyon somehow conjured up an injury time equaliser. Heart break for the scally legions. I almost felt sorry for them...
Meanwhile, in a far away stadium, football was being played on a higher plane. To think I gave up my chance to be there in favour of being at Gerland...
Elsewhere in the real world, a minor earthquake in French politics this morning. Sarkozy admitted making a mistake. Shock-horror! Or rather admitted badly handling the affair of putting his 23-year old son in charge of a billion euro budget. Today happens to be half-way through his presidential term, and the general tone of media coverage is that he is going through a rough patch. A recent poll puts his popularity rating at its lowest ever.
