Football Down The Pub

I have been looking at the computer screen trying to think of something to
write about that doesn’t include South Africa or football. Well I cant!
Mainly because, like a good number of other middle aged men, I have become
nine years old again.

I have kept the World Cup planner from the newspaper. I have bought an
England flag, an England air freshener, and a red and white hat.

I even spent a whole evening putting the fixtures into the calendar on my
iPhone even though I had previously bought an app (phone programme)
containing the full details.

To many of you, including Mrs M, this will all sound a little sad. In fact
my wife is under the impression that I might have World Cup Tourettes
because every now and then I get the urge to shout ‘Come on England’.

I know that I am not alone in this; every where I go I see grown men
gazing at newspapers and magazines containing details of the happenings
taking place on the African continent.

I spoke to an old school friend today and within seconds our conversation
became focussed on this, our favourite subject. My old pal is a Manchester
City fan whilst I support the team in red. This did not matter, however, as
we became joined as fellow supporters of our national team.

I mentioned Mrs M’s view that I might have World Cup Tourettes and he
chuckled as he told me about his need to sing the England football song
Three Lions at the top of his voice whilst alone in his car.

My wife said this confirmed her theory that the only difference between
men and cheese is that eventually the latter matures. I detected a little
too much sarcasm than I thought was necessary.

I enquired as to whether she was in any way excited about the competition.
‘A little she replied’ doing a mock Mexican wave as she sat on the sofa.

No matter, I continued with my pre-tournament preparations which included
ensuring that every TV in the house had good reception just in case we get
a failure, and fitting the flag to my otherwise unpatriotic car.

Mrs M, in a bid to manage my expectations, suggested that I book in for
some therapy should they not make it past the first round.

‘Therapy?’ I replied ‘I will form a whole support group should that

‘And where would you hold these sessions’ enquired my bride.

‘Down the pub’ I replied.

My wife did a second mock Mexican wave and I am sure I heard her say ‘Come
on England’ as she left the room.

World Cup Tourettes must be catching.

- Posted from my iPhone

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