8:52 p.m. Being newly employed*, I only found out scant minutes ago that France is playing Romania in the opening game. The Romanian team is distinguished in its way, no doubt, but metaphorically speaking my face fell. I have lower hopes for the dramatic interest of the soccer.
*(i.e. less able to devote time to reading sports news)
9:01 p.m. Es ist soweit! It's time!
9:03 p.m. A commentator for Germany's broadcaster: 'France has a magnificent defense. . . . . . Romania will do all it can.' (Roughly translated.)
9:07 p.m. Romania nearly scored a goal against France after all. The elegantly French goalie — tall, slender, gaunt-cheeked, and brooding-looking — looks as if he had been harrowed to his very soul.
9:10 p.m. I withdraw my aspersions on Romania's team. One of its players just made a beautiful pass in the air, across the French half, near the goal, despite all the defense. Altogether it hasn't looked bad in general either. (Except for the goalie fumbling the ball at the very beginning, in a situation where it didn't matter.)
9:14 p.m. After the listless presence of France in past World Cups, with Franck Ribéry and a few others doing what they could to salvage the mess, its team looks far more animated here. (As far as I can tell; to be honest, I've spent more time typing than watching.) Patrice Evra, still looks considerably world-weary, however.
9:23 p.m. A deafening near-silence after roaring outrage or excitement after a foul by a Romanian player against a French player, proving belatedly how stirred and loud the audience has really become, followed by a crescendo again as the ball is kicked off again.
9:27 p.m. Olivier Giroud, having been given and missed the opportunity as the lone vanguard of the French team in the Romanian half to score a goal, demonstrates that he is a bit of a ham, acting out his despair and the profound belief that his shining level of skill should have pulled that off. (I'm overinterpreting, here.)
9:30 p.m. Returning to the game in the middle of a commentator's sentence, without knowing the context, I am puzzled to hear of 'a yellow card for the 66-year-old."
9:31 p.m. The ball possession of the teams has been 54% (France) to 46% (Romania) so far. Interesting. But it also doesn't mean much with regard to a team's quality, often, since one team often likes to have the other do the running, I think, based on what their strategy or interest level in the game is.
9:41 p.m. A foul that I missed, which required medical attention for a Romanian player's leg. The Romanian coach, standing in lonely state in front of the team bench on the grassy sideline, looked like an impassively important Soviet potentate — at a tedious event on a visit to a mildly obstreperous satellite state — as it was resolved.
9:47 p.m. Ew. A player spitting with the camera zooming in on his face.
9:50 p.m. Half-time!
10:05 p.m. My half-time snack was ice cream with a sort of crumble of apples, mixed with brown sugar, and a butter-oat-flour-sugar mixture baked into a caramel crust on top. My eldest brother's baking. Delicious!
10:13 p.m. Awkward. A Romanian player plows full-length into a French one, like two trees falling sideways together or two dominoes. Not purely accidental, methinks.
10:16 p.m. France misses a shot on goal again, is granted a corner by happy circumstance.
10:17 p.m. France's goal, by Giroud. "Prepared, of course, by Payet," says the German commentator with enthusiasm. The audience roars, "Giroud!" Also a foul, which I didn't see.
10:21 p.m. Romanian Andone attempts to score a goal. After leaping for the header, he grasps the back of Patrice Evra's neck (?!) to steady himself. As Evra turns around, the expression comes to mind, 'If looks could kill . . .'
10:25 p.m. Evra nudges out his foot around the level of a Romanian player's knee. The Romanian was headed for France's goal. He falls. (Not a good idea of Evra's, although it was subtle enough that I only saw the foul properly in a second or third? replay.) Penalty shot for Romania, which Romania gets. The game is 1 to 1.
10:30 p.m. Yet another foul. A Romanian player leaping from behind tackles a French player to the ground, grasping him around the collarbones for good measure, reaps a yellow card, and then appears somewhat irritated that the audience is making such a fuss about this. That said, the fouls could be fouler? It hasn't been a bad game in that respect. At least so far.
10:47 p.m. The end of the game is nearing, and France's fans are anxious. A little French Harry Potter with glasses and the tricolor painted on his cheekbones is shown blowing out a despairing breath from the stands.
10:49 p.m. An exhausted celebration amongst the French players — less jumping, more collapsing against each other — as they finally score again after the 88th minute. Dimitri Payet scores, specifically.
10:53 p.m. Romania is gathered at the French foot of the field; so are the French players. The ball is kicked back out toward their side, and Sissoko runs with it nearly far enough to score another goal against the Romanians, but the three or so defense players left manage to head him away.
10:54 p.m. France beats Romania 2-1, and Dimitri Payet is now a remarkably popular man. (At least amongst French fans and teammates. Romanian fans and players may be less enthralled.)
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