Apparently there’s a big football tournament on at the moment.
I wouldn’t know, nor, in fact, do I care. Sadly, however, my colleagues rather do, and so the evening entertainment that is currently being inflicted upon me is a viewing of a football match.
England are playing against… some other team. I don’t know who they are, but they are wearing blue. Possibly Ukraine?
Anyway, if you know me at all you’ll know that I’m not exactly a fan of football. I did once go to an international match (Iraq vs. New Zealand) but that was more about the company (the lovely Mr & Mrs Reid) than the game, and I don’t actually remember who won.
If anything, since finding myself surrounded by football-obsessed people of late I find my opinion on the
beautiful boring game has gone from uninterested neutrality to vehement hatred.
I just made a statement about the fact that I consider football to be the most boring sport that exists, and the outcry around me was loud. Perhaps that is unfair, maybe there are more boring sports in the world, like golf, or snooker, or darts, but the difference of course is that no one really cares about snooker, conversations don’t always turn to golf, and I have never had to endure a two hour chat about darts transfers, whilst trapped in the back of a car, trundling down the motorway.
And that’s really why I hate it.
So, here I sit, at the back of room of a crowd of fans (and Scottish people) and I strive to survive through the only medium possible. Knitting.
In summary: thank goodness for needlecrafts.