How on earth could a…a…a Slumdog…possibly win Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Almost the same question had been asked to me for the past week.
My companion is a Tottenham season ticket holder, he gets to see extravagant football; exciting, pulsating, jaw-dropping Premier League football. Frde 24 hours before sitting in front of a worldwide audience, I was at the relatively unknown KRBS Priestfield stadium, watching my Gillingham team scrape past AFC Bournemouth in front of a whopping 5, four levels http://rectoria.unal.edu.co/uploads/tx_felogin/benjamin-franklin-s-theory-of-life-and/starbucks-statement-of-cash-flows.php the English football hierarchy. And there in North London sits 88, millionaires, and a Slumdog awaiting to be dazzled.
I look at my programme and the squad lists of both sides and dream of seeing even just one of them week in week out. As this showpiece event, the exciting, highly-anticipated, most least prestigious trophy of top-flight football with a name changed regularly by a sponsor begins, I sit back in awe and watch slumdog millionaire for free and watch hundreds of millions of pounds worth of talent strut their stuff in front of the world.
In the opening stages, a young striker has a chance before another youngster, this one a Republic of Ireland international, hits a shot I can only dream of that goes just narrowly wide of the mark. As the game wore on I saw pure pace, power, skill, accuracy, technique, strength, creativity, and that special touch of pure class from a Portuguese man who is wanted by some men in white who are watch slumdog millionaire for free Real Madrid.
From his audacious free-kicks, to his slick passing, to his creative mind-blowing skills, Cristiano Ronaldo is a player that would even make Gills legend Nicky Southall proud. Another man who I simply stared at in amazement was a chap called Roman Pavlyuchenko; the first ever Russia international to play in the Carling Cup Final. As a slumdog I felt like a millionaire seeing football of such a high caliber, and was so thankful when the best player in the world failed to win the trophy for Manchester United.
Nani, who stunningly did nothing with the ball, but hit it out for a goal kick. Thankfully for me, that meant the Slumdog called Yoosof was gifted to another 30 minutes extra of millionaire football. It came and went, with a player more legendary than ex-Gillingham player and now Dover Athletic manager Andy Hessenthaler, welsh wizard Ryan Giggs, coming on, but not able to add to his mind-blowing tally of trophies in this extra time period. However then came the most intense, mmillionaire, thrilling, pulsating, agonisingly painful moment of the game.
The penalty shootout was upon us, and even though being also a United supporter, I saw myself as a neutral because I was in the white side of the stadium. I could not look as memories of the true love of my life came flashing back. It was at that point where all the hard work had evaporated; a few lucky kicks giving the less hard working visitors a somewhat undeserved, exciting and dor day out.
As the slumdog recalled those events, the red millionaires were cheering and waving all up and down in delirious delight. The most pivotal point in deciding the champions had bypassed this Gillingham slumdog, although Watvh got over my agony just in time to see Rio Ferdinand lift aloft the trophy in front of a half deserted Tottenham area.
After staying around to see the official World Club Champions parade around yet another trophy, the agony that had finally shifted out of my mind came back.]