My Dad and me go to a soccer match

This is me.
I'm Jake.
I'm 5.

Just joking. I'm actually 4. But being 5 gets you stuff, like my cousin CC, so I go with that. This is me on top of my uncle Mucky's shoulders. You can tell because you see uncle Mucky in the next picture.

Me on Uncle Mucky's shoulders. I told you.

My dad said he wanted to take me to a soccer match because Italy was playing. I support three teams: Bafana Bafana, Italy and Roma. I'll play for Bafana Bafana when I am big. Dad said it was important for me to go to at least one game with him because it was potentially a big game if Italy won or went out against the Slovakians. But at the end of the day that doesn't matter, he said. What is important is that he took me to at least one world cup match, so that when I look back in years to come, I'll look at pictures and think my dad was a stand up guy, and I can say "I was there!" There were lots of colourful people about. The vuvuzela hurt my ears but dad bought me ear plugs so I didn't get any headaches. I also saw the Leopard guy I had to paint at school. Big yellow and furry. Dad said his name was Zakumi. Dad knows everything.

Those were our seats. The sun shone on us and it kept us nice and warm. I didn't even have to put on the 3 jackets and gloves mom put in my backpack. I ate 5 baby chocolate muffins and a pack of jelly babies. I also had an apple juice. This was after about 5 minutes of arriving at the stadium.

My dad wore blue socks and red shoes. Mom bought him the socks and matching Italy undies. The shoes were from uncle Mucky and aunty Julia. Dad likes cool shoes.

After my snacks, I asked dad for an ice cream. So he left his seat, excused himself and squeezed his way through the people who were sitting next to us and went to buy some. I had a bite and then said I didn't want anymore. Dad ate the rest of it.

Dad made me stand for the Italian national anthem and sing. I didn't like that much and asked if he could take me home. Dad said I should wait a bit as the game was about to start and would then get exciting. I was quite thirsty and asked if I could have some water. Dad said no because I had just had my apple juice. I said "please please please" really loudly cos dad says you must always say please. He smiled, excused himself and squeezed his way through the people who were sitting next to us. They smiled at me.

Dad came back in about 60 seconds before the match started with the water. He is very quick.

The game started but it didn't get any more exciting and I still wanted to go home. I told dad so and that it was boring. I had to tell him three times quite loudly before he listened to me. He asked me to watch the match. That's the match picture below. I still don't know why there were so many guys in orange.

After my water, I told dad that I needed to pee. He asked if I could wait and I said no and that it was coming out. I had to jump up and down on my toes to show him how serious it was. So dad held my hand, excused himself and squeezed his way through the people who were sitting next to us. Slovakia scored a goal at that stage. I remember cos Dad said a rude word just as we reached the top of the stairs. I went to the big boys toilet and used my first wee-wall. Dad even took a picture cos he said "At least I'll remember that it was me who took Jake to his first wee-wall."

We went back to the stadium and I tried to sleep for a little bit. But it was loud and dad kept jumping up. So I asked dad if I could have a coke. He said " in a minute" but I knew that I could be waiting here forever, so I began to shake his T-shirt. Dad smiled at me and asked me to wait in my seat but I didn't want to. So I ran with dad past the people, up the stairs and to the Coke ladies. That was fun and the Coke lady even helped me to take off the lid. We went back to our seats and after a sip, I said dad could have the rest of it. Dad always has my leftovers so I didn't hear him complain. Sharing is caring. Barnie says that.

In the second half, as soon as the whistle went, I told dad that I needed the loo for a number two. That's polite for saying you need a poo. I don't think dad understood so I shouted " I need a poo" loudly about 2 or 3 times. The people next to me who we squeezed past were not happy. I think they were still upset because Italy was coming second in this match. There's no such thing as second in my book, only losers. That's a picture of me on the loo. Dad even took a picture cos he said "At least I'll remember that it was me who took Jake to his first number 2 at his first world cup soccer match."

Squeezing back to our seats, the people asked if we wanted to change seats. Dad said it would be the last time otherwise he'd take them up on their offer. I hated all the seats in the stadium.

That's me and Uncle Mucky. I was showing dad that I hated my chair and wanted to go home. You can tell by the tongue. Uncle Mucky told my dad " I told you so" but I'm not sure what that was about. People started shouting lots and I had a little nap on my dad's lap, but then dad spilled the water. I told dad it was his fault and that he wet me. But he didn't listen. Dad was up and down at that stage and people were shouting lots. At one point Uncle Mucky and my dad started throwing me up and down over their heads. That was for a few minutes and it was fun before someone said, "No goal."

Dad and Uncle Mucky were not happy about that, and put me down. Dad said something about Lippi, the Italian coach, looking in the crowds of supporters for people with Italian passports so that they could play too.

Soon the game was over and the people all around were shouting rude words and started leaving. Italy were the losers. Daddy put me on his shoulders and walked me up the road where Nonna picked us up and took us home. It felt like I was on a camel and that made me sleepy.
When we got home I played with CC in my playroom and had a good time. My dad told mom he had learnt his lesson which was weird cos I didn't see any teachers. He also said that next time he would go alone or take someone else to watch a match. I thought he should have done that in the first place. Sometimes big people have spaghetti for brains.

Only 12 more sleeps til the soccer finishes and I get my dad back,

~JakieRicc