before my blogmate has a chance to publicly mock me about my consistent and obvious sports watching bandwagon-ness allow me to self-deprecate.
yet again, my life has been taken over my obsession with the final rounds of a sport that i normally care nothing about. if you ask my blogmate she'll tell you that i do this all the time.
i understand that as a 50% french person it's my moral and genetic obligation to care about "football" (i think you can only spell it "futbol" if you're actually a fan of ridiculous, latino-style, "gooooooooool"-screaming commentating, a phenomenon that i personally find to be extremely irritating).
i've always been a bit of a disappointment to some of my french relatives, mostly for my inherent american-ness, but also for my inability to serve any useful function in the spontaneous soccer matches that take place before, during, and after summer gatherings -the rules are such that everyone plays, shoes or not, skirt or not, and that wrath of my grandmother when you've taken out her geraniums is the price you pay for participating in the national pastime.
the truth, i've never really cared about soccer... until now... for the following reasons...
1) respectable excuse to repeatedly hang out in bars in the middle of the day
2) recognition from my boss that this is important, such that he actually makes sure i get out of work in time
3) keeping up with the jones' - i don't know if it's a chicago thing, but EVERYONE is talking about this. it's like reading middlesex or eating sushi - it's necessary data gathering so that you can talk to people at parties
4) chance to publicly love france
5) weird visceral satisfaction - for some reason i keep doing this
and, finally
6) REALLY HOT GUYS with nice legs and really emotive faces who cry like babies when they lose and rip their shirts of when they're happy. i spend most of my waking hours conjuring up schemes by which i get to marry zinedine zidane.
is there a support group for this?
5 comments:
addendum: it seems i don't get to marry zidane. in addition to the accesibility problem (world famous heart throb soccer player who lives across the atlantic), he's already married.
as a 50% italian person who cares nothing about soccer, or about football, you can bet that 1) i have faithfully been mocking your bandwagon-ness for the past 3 years and this is nothing surprising, and 2) i will be cheering for gli azzurri just because. is there a french word for bandwagon?
You need to stand by Zidane. He's one of those complicated, egotiscal, mercurial sportsgod types--I don't want to hear that you're rethinking your relationship simply because he engaged in a little teeny bit of headbutting. Look on the bright side: the man knows how to make an exit. -sm
it's not that i'm abandoning zidane in his time of need - it's that he abandoned me.
This blog needs to be updated. I'm just sayin. -sm
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