Let me start by saying that I love my husband. I do. Really I do. Okay now that that’s out the way let’s get to the heart of the matter shall we?
My current husband is actually my second. My first, affectionately known as my practice husband (ex-husband is just so cliché), was and I imagine still is a lovely person but he was without a doubt Canadian to the core and by that I mean obsessed with hockey. I’ll spare you the gory details but I will say that there was many a Saturday night when I weighed the legal ramifications of a psychiatrist slipping her mate a Prozac cocktail against the preservation of her own sanity.
When I was between husbands I vowed that never again would I join forces with a sport obsessed sidekick no matter how cool he looked rocking the stage in red leather pants, a cleverly crafted ruse used by groom #1 to lure unsuspecting women like me into his underground hockey lair.
When I met Neil ‘Are you a hockey fan?’ was one of the first questions I asked him. He had me at hello but he kept me at no. And so began what can only be described as a beautiful and relatively sport free partnership. Sure there’s some golf here and there, no problem. And he loses his mind every four years for the Football (soccer) World Cup. He takes time off work, screams at the television and frightens the merde out of me but overall I think I got off easy. That is until we moved to France.
Of course in Europe football is more than a game, it’s a serious illness affecting the masses and it appears my man is not immune. He has discovered a TV channel that plays every football game ever recorded. And I regret to inform you that his condition appears to be rapidly deteriorating into full on hooliganism.
He’s now testing positive for rugby. On the up side the last game of the rugby world cup was played yesterday morning (France lost by one point), on the down side every ‘classic’ rugby game ever played is now being sought out in between the soccer games. Saturday night I came downstairs to find him watching American football, something I’ve never seen in the ten years I’ve known him.
Between you and me I’m starting to get worried. For now I’m taking a wait and see approach but I’m telling you right now if I come home to find him with his painted face under a helmet that holds a beer on either side and waving a giant foam finger I’ll be more than happy to mix him that drink. I’m retired and I have a lot less to lose.
This made me laugh hysterically.
All sports-inflicted pain to you aside.
I will admit that I have, from time to time, watched other people watching sports, and vaguely wondered if they were faking their enthusiasm.
Guess not.
Best of luck!
Ladaisi Blog
Yesterday we got tangled up with traffic that was leaving a NY Jets football game. In that sea of green and white I saw up close what true fans look like. Do what you need to do to save Neil from the face paint and the air horns!
Oh if there’s an air horn involved there’s a tranquilizer gun involved.
Sending tea and sympathy across the Channel. The Hub’s poison is Formula 1 cars – luckily there are only about 15 races a year. And he usually only watches the beginning and the end.
I was thinking more like a wool beret flanked with a couple of vintage Montrachets… with straws of course.
I’m not talking to you.
I agree with you. Men (and women) who are ardent sports followers scare me. It’s like they think they, themselves, are playing the game, yelling at players who aren’t performing up to par. There’s a father who does that at my daughter’s soccer games. He gets so riled up. All I can think is that the poor man is still a child himself.
There are many things point to my man being a child. But he cooks so I may have to learn to love football.
I witnessed a serious disagreement between my husband and son yesterday over sports. My son wanted to watch football and my husband wanted to watch the World Series.
I wish I’d had some of that cocktail.
Two against one, is that cocktail for you or them?
I ‘ere you. I have tried to raise my male offspring as sport-inclined-but-not-obsessed however my efforts have failed. I believe one of them wandered off to uni this morning in a bright yellow Wallabies beanie.. The worst is they are tri-national and follow more football/rugby matches than you could poke a stick at.
I do like the starter husband idea. Wonder if my ex would call me a practice wife?
Jake is playing lacrosse now – a big deal here (Neil: did you play?). On occassion, I’ve found myself yelling from the bleachers “GET IN THERE!!”. I think we’re all just a few degrees away from the foam finger given the right motivation (or in my case…velour track pants with Halifax Hurricanes emblazoned across the rear.)
Neil says no to lacrosse but now you’ve got him thinking.
I try to imagine Neil with those accessories… ça me fait rire!
Yesterday morning, the teacher and the other guys decided to stop the osteopathy lesson to watch the rugby…What an entertainment!15 guys watching (and yelling) 15 others running after a strange ball, best show ever!
too funny! that was a big point for me with the mr. as well. he doesn’t watch any pro football but he is obsessed with lsu football – so i begrudgingly give him 6 saturday afternoons a year to indulge himself during home games.
Hate to say it, old girl, but having a grandfather who played for Wales, I can lend Neil a lot of my ‘Wales take on the world at rugby’ DVDs when I finally unpack them soon… and yes, I DO know the offside rule.
So.. my suggestion come February when the Six Nations kicks off, is that I’ll make some nice food and you and Troll can sit and discuss world peace in my kitchen whilst Neil and I scream obscenities at the TV… sound good???
Deal!
The only good thing about sports watching is … not sure … maybe the food and drink? Hmmm…
I can understand the sports thing completely. I am really excited that college basketball is almost here. I yell at the screen like an idiot. I would never paint my face, but I have quite a few t shirts with my favorite team on the front. I dated a guy once who said to me “you read, I watch football.”
My husband LOVES sports. Lives for them. Football, Nascar, golf, etc, etc. We have an uneasy agreement that if he’ll stop talking about which fantasy players to bench, I’ll stop talking asking for his opinion when I get home from the salon.
LOL!!
As much as I love sports, I’m no addict and couldn’t be married to one. Good for you for taking your mulligan and getting out of that first one.
I, too, had a practice husband and I’m glad I did. He helped me figure out most of what I really couldn’t live with
Bobbi, I too can feel your pain. The part that REALLY rubs my nerves right raw is when they see the goal scored, then the instant replay, and they have to view it again on the next sports cast, and the one after that, and on and on it goes. And dont talk to me about sports trivia, I know more about Michael Jordan, Ty Domie, sure it would make uncle Dee ever so proud.
Ha!!! OK, so I’m currently in the market for a new husband, and you’ve given me much to consider. I wonder how he’ll react if I tell him I don’t know whether it’s pumped or stuffed…
“He’s now testing positive for rugby”…droll. very funny. of course, the only upside is that those rugby guys wear REALLY short shorts. continue…
And the legs on them!
Trust me – the best men get passionate about football. Never mind other sports – the men who love football and rugby are the only ones that matter. ;-)