Fluminense vs Paranaense. That match. I remember that one, not for the glorious goals or the brilliant saves, oh no. For me, it’s etched in my memory for entirely different, more chaotic reasons. You see, I had this whole day planned around it, my own little ritual for a big game.
I was thinking, perfect Saturday. The idea was to get my chores done early, maybe a quick trip to the market, then settle in on the sofa. I’d even bought some specific snacks, you know, the ones you save for a proper match day. The plan was simple: kick back, enjoy the game, total peace and quiet. My partner was going to be out with friends, so the remote, the cheers, the groans – all mine. Seemed like a foolproof plan for enjoying some quality football.
Well, that’s pretty much where the smooth sailing ended and my personal obstacle course began. First off, those “quick chores.” Remember the washing machine? It decided that very afternoon was the perfect time to stage a rebellion. Water. Everywhere. I swear, I spent a good hour just mopping up, muttering things under my breath I wouldn’t want anyone to hear. So much for a relaxing build-up to Fluminense vs Paranaense.
Then, just as I thought I was getting back on track, my neighbor fired up his new power tool. Sounded like he was trying to drill to the center of the Earth. Right when the pre-game commentary was starting! The noise was incredible. It was like trying to appreciate tactical genius while sitting next to a road construction crew. Absolutely maddening.
Okay, okay, deep breaths. Game time was getting closer. I thought, I can still salvage this. I went to get those special snacks I’d bought. And what do I find? My kid, bless their cotton socks, had apparently mistaken my carefully chosen game-day treats for an open buffet earlier. All gone. Replaced with a half-eaten bag of something I wouldn’t even feed to the pigeons. The disappointment, folks, it was a tough pill to swallow.
So there I was, still slightly frazzled from the appliance mutiny, ears still buzzing from the DIY concert next door, clutching some apology of a snack, trying to get into the zone for Fluminense vs Paranaense. I think I missed the first big chance of the game because I was still trying to find the TV remote, which had mysteriously vanished. Turns out, the dog thought it was a new chew toy.
By the time the final whistle blew, I was so worn out from my own personal battles that I barely registered the score. My Fluminense vs Paranaense experience was less about the beautiful game and more about navigating a series of domestic calamities. It was my own little championship of surviving the day. I didn’t get to savor much of the on-field drama, but I definitely had my own full-contact sport happening right there in my living room. Sometimes, that’s just the way it crumbles, isn’t it? You set yourself up for a big event, and life just decides to throw a few curveballs. Still, it certainly made for a memorable day, just not for the reasons I’d anticipated. That’s my personal log of that particular Fluminense vs Paranaense fixture. A real test of patience, that was.
