And that has been

Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition) - - LIFE -


be wacky, bonkers, cuckoo and to go ba­nanas; to yelp, shriek, howl and yowl; to have beer for break­fast; to bounce up and down to­gether so vig­or­ously in the Metro it seems car­riages could jump their tracks; to walk around with stuffed cock­erels on their heads, with faces painted red, white and blue and in body-hug­ging skin-tight suits that un­for­tu­nately leave noth­ing to the imag­i­na­tion.

In short, foot­ball has again en­abled the French to not give a damn, at least in 90-minute bursts. And that has been won­drous. Un­bri­dled joy on French faces that were so etched with pain has been the best legacy of this four-week breath of much-needed fresh air, bet­ter than spectacular goals, shots, saves or any of the other on-pitch dra­mas.

To­mor­row, as I can­not help but do since Novem­ber, I will walk to the sta­dium to re­port on the fi­nal, think­ing again about the chauf­feur who was killed out­side af­ter drop­ping clients off for the friendly match against Ger­many that France won 2-0, a vic­tory no one cel­e­brated. Although I would much rather not, I will prob­a­bly puz­zle for the umpteenth time about what the sui­cide bombers were think­ing.

But then the clouds will be blown away by the sight of peo­ple mak­ing merry, some­thing that in Novem­ber seemed might never hap­pen again. – ANA- AP

Le­ices­ter is an in­ter­na­tional sports colum­nist for The As­so­ci­ated Press.

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