The chanting in the stadium wouldn't let us know what was actually happening. The little gunshot nearby, an ex trying to win the heart back. A deranged husband try spying on his wife everywhere she goes. A homespun lady gently watching the match. What could bring a nerd to such a noisy stadium as this. Looking at everyone with an in-depth microscopic eyes. All men, tribes and tongues at the quarter-final.
Source
The match didn't end in our favour, we lost woefully. The players didn't show remorse at all that there chance of clinching a ticket to the semi final is gone. They looks more confident of what's ahead. I starts to fear if the game had been sold.
The chant grew louder and louder, it was a racism chant at the captain who was black, shouting on top of there voice to send him away, and that his black colour is bringing bad luck to the team. I am not sure I could take it, so I made my leave while the chant grew louder.
The scourge of racism on the football field is yet to leave great britain and most of the European nation, despite knowing the impact blacks are having on the game on there soil. They forgot to see that but look at every defeat as an opportunity to chant a derogatory statement.
Thanks to the prompt response of the city police, I saw how bad it get after being home.
My entry into @mariannewest everyday Freewrite