Well, it's over. Italy emerges on top, and the U.S. announcers can rejoice since the U.S. team tied with Italy in their group game, ergo the U.S. team is co-world champions (or some such logic).
I watched the second half (and the overtime and the penalty kicks) in a bar. Boy, am I a lightweight drinker. As I was two-thirds through my beer - I know I'm a lightweight, so I was pacing myself - we go into overtime, and the guy next to me orders another pitcher for him and his pal. When I'm done with my beer, he pours some into my cup. It turns out we were both among the minority, Italian supporters (some sort of pasta jock-strap, I'm sure), and he felt a bond with me. He was Latin-American, so I couldn't quite get him to understand (linguistically) that I preferred Italy because of the way they turned their first game (against Ghana) around, midgame. A few changes, they sent the attack along the sides, and, boom, they're ahead.
Anyway, I drank the second beer and was a bit dizzy on my entire way home.
I'm such a sissy.
But, hey, now I can try to have a regular schedule again (once the kids are done with their bout of indigestion - I'm sure the washer and dryer will relish a break, too).