The score yesterday at the FIFA world cup, 4 – 0
The match was France against Canada, which seemed like a very promising win for the bigger country. Everyone said France sucked, and most of them bet on Canada (although the majority of the people who did forgot who exactly Canada was.)
Everyone said, soccer was just like hockey, but without the sticks, ice, and bulky uniforms. With that fact in mind, Matthew Williams was positive that the way his team had trained they'd win.
Incorrect. France made goal after goal after goal as Matthew sat on the couch at home, gaping at the failure of his team. "Oh, come, on you guys!" He shouted, disturbing Kumajiro. "They're French hosers! You shouldn't be losing to them!" He was slowly starting to stand, "Their stupid goalie has literally let the ball bruise her ten times the entire game! You guys should be able to get the ball around her!"
"Why are you yelling?" Kumajiro asked. "It's just a game."
"It's not a game Koocaroo!" Matthew spat at him. "This was my chance to get more national attention, and my team is sucking out there!"
"My name's not Koocaroo." Kumajiro said, "And I'm sorry your team sucks."
Matthew plopped back down on the couch, sighing as the game was about to end. "Please, just one goal, and I will be so happy…"
Just then, one of the French soccer players had the ball from a failed goal attempt, and kicked it right into the face of one of the Canadian players.
"NO!" Matthew watched the player fall onto the ground, face in hands while lying in obvious pain. "No, no, no! Have that bitch out of the game!"
Kumajiro slowly crawled off the couch, muttering something about not wanting to be near this guy (he'd rather get angry over hockey than soccer), and wandering into the kitchen to find a snack somehow.
Whenever it was revealed that the player's nose was pouring blood, Matthew threw a couch pillow at the TV, "Damn you Francis!" loudly followed. "Just wait until we get to the Winter Olympics, I'll smoke you at hockey! Smoke. You!"
Five minutes later, the game was called and France declared the winner. Matthew was sprawled across the couch, watching the TV in hopes of them announcing that Canada would at least play another match.
They said Canada was going home.
"No!" Matthew jumped up. "You guys could've at least got one goal! Tomorrow is Canada Day! Do you not care about your country!"
"I do." Kumajiro piped up from the edge of the room, Matthew turning his attention to him. "My country is very important to me."
Matthew smiled in what seemed like ages since the game started. "I know you think so, Kumija."
"Although, I do question who you are."
"…I'm Canada." Matthew slammed the remote to turn the TV off, "And I'm so disappointed right now…"
"Hey, at least they get to come home sooner." Kumajiro waddled over to his owner, "They might be home just in time to celebrate Canada day, don't you think? C'mon guy, you'd want your people to celebrate your birthday, wouldn't you?"
Sitting up straight, smiling at the thought of his citizens having a fun day tomorrow, Matthew agreed. "You're right, Kusco. Why sulk over a stupid soccer game when we could be celebrating being Canadians instead?"
"And playing hockey, a real Canadian thing to do." Kumajiro crawled up into Matthew's lap, snuggling against his body happily, "Soccer is just dumb."
The next day, Matthew stood proudly in the streets of Ottawa while taking in the wonderful sights of the Canadian flag. There was one everywhere you looked, along with people starting to clog up the sidewalk to watch for a parade. It was funny, people were waving around little Canadian flags, and some even had Canadian pride hats and wigs, such like that. (Hey, Americans weren't the only ones who loved their country to the point they'd wear something ridiculous.)
"Do we get to ride a float this year?" Kumajiro asked, looking up at Matthew as well as he could in his arms. "I want to ride a float."
Matthew turned from the sights of a pre-parade party, "I talked to my boss the other day, and he seemed fine with us on a float."
Kumajiro hummed before asking, "Did the FIFA team make it back today? Or are they still over wherever?"
Matthew stopped walking to look at his pet. "W-what? The FIFA team? Why do you all of a sudden care about them?"
"They need to be congratulated for trying at least." Kumajiro blinked. "Do you not want to thank the team for at least trying?"
Matthew bit his lip, starting his walk again, "Sure, although I do think they could've done better."
With a sigh, Kumajiro said, "There is always next time, guy. In the meantime, what does our float look like?"
"We'll see when we get there." Matthew muttered, thinking about what all Kumajiro said. Sure, there was always a next time, but what if he was like Italy this year and didn't get to compete in FIFA next time? What if he had to go against France's team again, but lost by ten? Well, this year would probably prepare them for next time, if France was that tough then Canada's team could train and –
Oh, why think about it now? Matthew now stood before the lineup of the parade's floats, watching as people chosen to be on the floats busied around for last minute preparations to make the parade a perfect event. "You know, Kumajiro?"
With a big smile, climbing onto the float, Matthew replied, "I'll make sure you're the first one to talk to the team when they return from Germany, how does that sound?"
Kumajiro seemed to gasp while wiggling in excitement, "Really? You'd do that nice guy?"
"Sure I would." Matthew set Kumajiro down on the floor of the float, thinking to himself, If I did it I might snap at them.
"Alright, are we ready to go?" One of the people running the parade called. "Is everyone one their float?"
"What about Canada?"
"Here!" Matthew waved his hand around.
Today was his day. Why waste it sulking over a simple loss?
**Alrighty, that's my Canada's B-Day work for this year. Yesterday, FIFA women's world cup was on TV. My sister and I freaked out because it was Canada against France – and when we turned on the TV France was winning. We watched as France made three more goals, and towards the end of the game sis and I were sitting there pissed at France and begging Canada to make at least one goal. I'm sure that Canadian's don't really care for soccer, but hey, it's still kind sad. Comments be welcomed, and sorry for a fail, I was up until 3:00 this morning stalking fourms.
PS. Events stated in the story actually did happen in the match. **