Korea 2, Togo 1
I miss Korea-Togo because I'm too busy writing on this blog. Dangit. I gotta keep these summaries brief. Don't worry Koreatown, I'll catch up.
France 0, Switzerland 0
Next I'm at Zazou bar on King W at halftime of the noon game, where France-Switzerland is on the big screen. I love the France jerseys but don't care for this year's team. Zinedine Zidane is the man but that smarmy keeper Barthez turns me off.
Zazou is surrounded by touristy French restaurants, and I'm hungry, but pommes frites won't cut it for an anglo dog like me. I can imagine Charles de Gaulle yelling "vive le Quebec libre!" as I opt for Timmy Horton's.
France can't score; they haven't scored since 1998. The game ends a draw. I meet a pissed-off Algerian in the bathroom whose friend lost a chance at $10,000 because France didn't win ("He was gonna be 16 out of 16! The coach is an idiot - why did he leave out Trezeguet?"). I hold off telling him that gambling is for suckers, but I feel bad nonetheless.
Brazil 1, Croatia 0
Portugal fans are scary - but Brazil fans are fun. The matches take place in the same Portuguese telecasts in the exact same bars along College, so the fan behaviour's an interesting contrast. Expect street craziness and traffic snarls for both.
I try El Bola (College west of Dufferin) before halftime, but it's steam and sweat inside as they're stuffed beyond capacity, so head east past Ossington to one of my reliable 'old-man bars' - Carlo'S nack Bar (that's what's written on the sign).
Brazil wins but don't play their best game. The fans don't care - they won. It's drumming and dancing in the streets - right as rush hour hits College. 100 police officers on bikes attempt to control the mess. Hotshots cruise down Dufferin to add to the chaos. Brazil is so fun.