On being a football widower

 

Everywhere there is excitement as fridges are stocked with beer, take-ways planned and ordered, snacks prepared and friends invited as England prepares to meet Italy in the European Cup Final. It's no different in this house as beer sits in the fridge chilling, waiting to be consumed at the right moment and diner is planed to be finished well before the match starts. 

However there is one major difference in this household as only one of us is looking forward to the match. In a complete role reversal it's the missus who will be drinking beer, cheering ad shouting at the telly. I have no interest in the game and ever have.

Back in the sixties there was always other kids demanding to know what football team you supported, Giving the wrong answer could either result in a ribbing or sometimes something a little rougher. Tribalism. No other word for it. 

I had lot's of hobbies, some of which remain with me to this day but football and frankly sport in general ever interested me. Hated being forced to play it at school . At least with cricket I could knock my own wicket off or avoid the ball if fielding. Saw it hit someone once. Most unpleasant.

There were a handful of others like me but we were and probably remain a minority,

Do't get me wrong I'm patriotic enough to hope England win but I won't be watching even though the match will be on our TV. I have some reading to catch up on and will be listening to some heavy metal, mostly to drown Anita's shouting out....

There has long been talk of "Football Widows" who tonight will be joined by this "Football Widower" but there must be others....somewhere out there!