football

I love football.
Football is such a great game, in spite of Italian players‘ bogus acts every now and again.
Or maybe it’s because of footballers’ drama acts sometimes that I love it so much.
It’s funny and it’s fun.
It gathers people and makes people love each other.
It makes opposing supporters hate each other but who cares.
The fun a world cup or a Euro cup can bring in homes is like nothing else can, not even birthdays.
There’s lots of beer, cheers, chips, and shouting.
If the favourites lose, the guests and host drink for the loss and still have fun.
If the favourites win, the guests and host drink all the same.
The mood never changes.
The chatter is always strong, cheerful, and senseless.

I love football.
I watched England play Sweden last night.
England certainly don’t know, but I’m their secret mascot.
If I don’t watch their rugby or football game, they’re highly likely to lose.
It’s not bragging.
It’s actually my great burden and sole responsibility to watch every game England plays.
And if the game is lame, it’s total boredom.
My role is to stay and watch it as passionately and remain as concentrated as possible.
How do you think the English rugby team won the 2003 rugby world cup?
Because of Dellaglio, Robinson, or Wilkinson and the rest of the England’s team?
Just joking, of course.
But last night, I came to the conclusion that I’m really jinxed, in a way.
Rather, I’m jinxing the English games, in an oddly good way for them.
I was watching the football match (why do you think I missed to upload a blogpost?), and there went the first score for the English team.
But because I was dying to go to sleep, I decided to retreat.
The moment I left the room, the Swedes drew.
My husband, of course, having watched one rugby world cup with me by his side (when England won the cup) and one Rugby World Cup without me by his side because of the kids (when England lost), nearly blamed me for the Swedish goal, so I marched back and sat on the couch like some Egyptian magician and continued watching.

England won.
They actually beat Sweden for the very first time, was what I heard.
There you go…
If anyone is betting next time, I’ll let you know if I’ll be able to watch the game again 🙂

Anyway, the post is for football and why I love this game and am glad that games like these exist.
I’m happy because football makes my grandma happy.
She’s nearly 80.
She’s lived through one stroke, a dead son (whom she lost when he was 33) and dead husband, and the remaining of her siblings, her daughter, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, are all hundreds of miles away from her.
But she loves football.
She knows the names of coaches, managers, footballers. She supports the Spanish more often than not, but now that I’ve got a British husband, she’s a little confused. She loves Chelsea and follows up on club championships.
She’s so passionate about football that when I called her last night – very shamefully rude, during the France-Ukraine game – she nearly hung up on me.
I guess she didn’t because she was more fired up on the next game – England-Sweden.
The first thing she asked me was: “honey, is A watching the game tonight?” Yes, grandma, I said. Of course my husband is watching the game…and by the way, how are you doing? There was no time for that much talk. There was an important game to be watched.

And that’s when I felt so thankful about football.
Because it makes my grandmother happy.
Football excites so many people.
It gives them exhilaration and intensity.
For 90 odd minutes.
It takes them physically and mentally away from their current state.
It gives them hope.
It enthuses them.
It gives them love.
What better than all these blessings from a silly game, for someone like my grandmother.
Not only her.
There are war-torn countries where little children hope and dream of better life, because that’s what football gives them.
Hopes and dreams.
You’ve read of some stories.
You’ve heard of some worldwide initiatives.

That’s why I love football.
And in general, that’s why I love all sports.

Long live people who play sports.
For they keep sports alive.

I’d love to see [my] kids excited about a sport, about a team.
There’s direction, there’s love and purity in loving a team, in supporting a team.
The way my husband watches every English game – with his England scarf, England t-shirt, and England hat. (guess how I am, for that matter…and now our kids…like cloned).
Nothing better than that for fun – a good game of football.

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