Two goals, dodgy ref, two red cards, a goalkeeper sent off, a saved penalty, a ten-man Greece scoring an equalizer but bottling it from the spot - and that was only the first match.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Euro 2012 has finally arrived.
Yeah that Russia v Czech game was okay, there were only 5 goals scored in what was possibly the best attacking display the Russians have ever put together. Arshavin looked like the player Arsenal signed back in the 2008/09 season; if not more dominating. Had they not been so wasteful in front of goal, they likely could have scored 10 - no exaggeration.
Rewind back to the opening match, Poland looked lethal. Playing on home soil obviously helped raise the game, but the Greeks didn't know how to deal with them. I watched the match on the Danforth, surrounded by blue and white. Typically I would be a neutral, however I went with my best friend, who is Polish.
The moment we rose from Pape station - Artur draped in his Polska flag - we were welcomed by a driver screaming "Poland sucks, get the fuck off the Danforth." It didn't end there. Not many people are insane enough to walk into enemy territory like a peacock, however we had bee drinking all night.
As the game kicked off, you could sense the anger in the bar. There were at least 200 Hellas supporters, singing, waving flags, staring at us with fury. When Poland began to dominate, we were targeted. The evil stares only got worse as Poland took an early 1-0 lead, Art jumping on the seat of our booth, waving his massive Polish flag, the both of us high fiving each other.
Red card, half time, Greece changes formation. Switching from their relatively unorthodox 4-3-3, Greece suddenly took away Poland's space. The free flowing game Polska had been enjoying was suddenly nullifed. Greece counters, levels the score, Sweet Potato Fries suddenly rain upon our table.
As shocking as this was, nothing could express the distress in Art's eyes when Szczesny was sent off. Art cowered under his flag, not able to bare to look at Greece taking a 2-1 lead, the hopes of his homeland suddenly being diminished. This was a penalty kick, the game was over.
I only wish for a moment that I was him, hunched underneath the flag, expecting to hear the bar roar once again as Greece took the lead. However, instead of feeling a roar, it was my hands that started shaking his head. He looked up to see it had been saved very well by Tyton. Once again, the seat became Art's personal trampoline.
The game did fizzle out as both teams were beginning to tire. Yet all of the emotions and action helped set an unprecedented tone for the rest of the tournament. There are 20 days left, what else is in store?
England winning?
