I like to go out of my way every now and then to try and experience unique events. Not the groundbreaking, extremely memorable type of events but more like the “Let’s go for a walk at 7am on a Saturday morning since I have a jet lag and I’m up early anyways“-kind of things. Last night I had another opportunity to experience something I’m not likely to experience again any time soon. There’s only two things in life I’m really passionate about: music and football. When I learned that The Netherlands was playing Morocco in the first knock-out round of this year’s World Cup – a tense clash you could even describe as somewhat of a derby due to the large Moroccan community down here – I naturally had to watch it. The only issue: the game would be played on a weekday, a Tuesday to be precise, at the ungodly hour that is 3am. Three o’clock. In the morning, that is. So, off I pop to bed quite early (for my standards, at least) to set an alarm at 2:20am, well on time to cycle down my local bar and order myself an alcohol free beer (still got to go to the office in the morning after all) and settle down for what would hopefully be a phenomenal game of football. I’d say we leave it at that for the match review (we lost after a dramatic penalty shoot-out) and over three hours later, I finally found myself back in bed feeling defeated and deflated. The sun had risen – something I also hadn’t experienced in ages (and something I quite frankly don’t enjoy as much either) – and I had to immediately try and shift my mindset from being a fanatic football supporter, excited and hopeful to finally see my nation do well in this big international tournament, to waking up 2 hours later again, knocked-out and ready to start another day at the office. Oh to be a devoted sports fan. Life can be harsh sometimes. Guess I’ll make use of my other passion to get through this blow and fill up the gaping Hole that the Dutch national team has left in my football-loving heart.