>>And there were no terrorist attacks. That has to be the best thing about it all. No one was killed or maimed by a lunatic with a gun or a bomb, and everyone was able to enjoy being together to support their team.<<

Not being snide or sarcastic, but this illustrates how much we've lowered the bar on what's a "successful" gathering. Reminds me of my mother talking about a neighbor kid who was always in one scrape or another: "Well, at least he's not selling drugs."

I have a bit less praise for the French, particularly for some lapses in security. I don't think you can call it a success when thugs manage to get into a stadium carrying incendiary and small explosive devices.

As for the game, give Portugal's coach credit for figuring out how to beat a superior team. Oh, and let's not forget the goalkeeper.

It wasn't a great tournament in terms of the quality of the football, but I enjoyed Iceland and Wales's contributions.

Yes, I know that they are grumbling about the tournament being "dumbed down" but I enjoyed the input from the "smaller nations" - they actually brought the tournament to life.

and we will always have the Icelandic Chant [though someone on the radio was claiming it for Motherwell on Saturday!]

Uruabam said that too Ann (the Motherwell connection), and sent me a link about it. I still think it works better as a Viking chant though!

As a relatively recent immigrant to Portugal, being a part of all this has been an extremely thrilling and emotional experience. I wear my cachecol (futebol scarf) and sing "A Portuguesa" as loudly and as proudly as anyone here :-)

One thing I won't miss is Seven Nation Army. I suspect the Viking Thunderclap will become a feature of many games.

I didn't mean that the lack of terrorism made this event a success. I was just relieved it passed by with nothing worse than Rent-a-Thugski.

Antoine Griezmann is such a hottie!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antoine_Griezmann

Impressions of a yankee travelers who happened to be in Conwy, Wales the evening of the Wales-Belgium match:

" Upon leaving the restaurant, we heard squeals of happiness emanate from a nearby pub. Half of our party wanted nothing to do with this nonsense and departed smartly for the B&B. The other half ran down to the pub and found this a small pub Ye Olde Mail Coach, which appears to be popular with the locals, capacity, oh, maybe 80, filled with nearly 200 revelers, all filled with glee as Wales had just scored a second go-ahead goal. In spite of the fact that there did not seem to be a single square foot of available floor space, we dove into the morass without hesitation, and found a few spare spots for wood floorboard upon we to take up our place in this silliness. The clearly and thoroughly inebriated Welsh football fans greeted us with their most ridiculously worded fan songs. Now, one must understand, a 2-1 lead mid-way through the 2nd half would normally start the end of game celebration, but the Belgians have a highly touted offence, so even with goal lead, with the Belgians pressing the attack, the tension amongst our fellow fans was palpable. Suddenly, shortly after the 80th minute, a seemingly routine sideline Welsh pass was converted into a brilliant centering service and an equally brilliant head shot into the back of the Belgian’s goal and the insurance goal was secured, Wales 3 Belgium 1. At this point, every vocal cord of the fabled Welsh phonation apparatus was immediately engaged in screaming as loudly as possible. The integral intensity of sound produced, in my opinion, can be only compared to sticking one’s head into the nozzle of a Saturn V rocket motor at full throttle. It was an indescribably horrific noise.

Moreover, this was accompanied by each hand immediately thrust skyward. Nevermind that half the hands were gipping half-full glasses of ale. So, in additional to this granite-shattering noise, the atmosphere was also filled with gallons of ale, flying in all directions, baptizing all in the room, Yankees included. I’m sure lots of Europeans will claim that their football fans behave similarly, but let me now describe a uniquely Welsh twist. With that much Ale flying in all directions, a small but finite amount of liquid invariably lands back into a few previously emptied glasses. So while still screaming madly, the proper Welsh fan checks to see if there is any ale re-appearing in his/her glass, and if there is more than a 1/2 cms worth, promptly pitches the remaining ale into his/her best friend’s face, happy to get that act in while the friend is checking the bottom of his/her respective empty glass. "

IMHO this chronicle captured beautifully the spirit of the final.
http://www.politico.eu/blogs/the-lin...rench-frailty/
"L'euro est mort, vive l'euro".

A few images from Portugal :-)

http://www.luzdelisboa.com/euro-2016/