So it’s saturday afternoon and once again, I find myself alone with my laptop whilst my husband watches football. I believe that makes me something which I have always previously mocked as a “Sports Widow”.
I was blessed with both a father and a brother who had no interest in any sport, and a first husband who I was able to bully sufficiently so as to prevent him from watching too much sport, but husband number two has a stronger will by far!
To try to compete, I have feigned interest (briefly – couldn’t carry it off with any conviction) and supported a team. I have tried to learn the offside rule and I can now name the majority of sports commentators by voice alone. But this is a skill hard learned and has only been made possible with considerable concentration and effort.
To pass the time, I now sit alongside husband as sport is watched, and write, google and now…Blog.
Having only two months of premiership free existence in every twelve, I tend to get quite excited when May approaches, and my husband assures me that there is no more football for eight blissful weeks……….no more that is, if you ignore the play offs (which he doesn’t!) and various other games that seems to be played even though I thought they weren’t allowed.
And then when it finally does seem to stop, Sky Sports pull Cricket out of the bag and off we go again. Test Matches, 20:20, one day internationals.
The problem with cricket is that whereas I can fathom roughly what is going on on a football pitch, I am utterly clueless about the workings of a cricket match. What is a wicket? What is an over? Who the bloody hell is Hawkeye? and what is the commentators fascination with tea and how much light there is on the ground?
Talking of commentators – I have a clear favorite in David Lloyd, or Bumble as he is affectionately known. His Lancashire lilt and dodgy humour are charming and I find him the perfect soundtrack to compliment my Googling. Shane Warn is the australian chap who used to be the best off side “spinner” in the game (according to the Duckworth Lewis Method aka Neil Hannon et al) , but he has a voice that grates and I am unable to hear him talk without having “Jiggery Pokery” stuck in my mind for hours afterwards (again ref: Duckworth Lewis Method CD).
So it seems that there is no break from sport for poor little me. I have evolved and am now able to accommodate it in my existence with reasonable flair, but I cannot help but wonder how many women are out there, furiously trying to pick up the offside rule and fathom out how many balls are in an over!
And at the end of the day, there is one silver lining to my cloud…….Mr Blogail doesn’t watch Golf!