Recent conversation in our house:
The Hubster: Do you have any interest in the World Cup?
Me: What sport is that?
The Hubster: So, I take it that your answer is no.
Yes, I am soccer-ignorant. I know many of you are gasping from shock and thinking, “How could anyone in the free world not know about the World Cup??”
Well, it’s like this. I grew up in a very small town in the heart of America very much like the one in which I currently reside. In fact, it is the very small town in which I reside. Our high school offered football (American football–you know, the one with the helmets and the shape of the ball is a prolate spheroid–boy, I sounded smart right there), volleyball, basketball, and track. The college that I attended right out of high school did not offer soccer. So, see–it’s really not my fault–I was soccer-deprived in my formative years.
My youngest daughter did play a couple of years of recreational soccer a few years ago, so I do know that the goal of soccer is to kick the ball into the net without using your hands. Another goal is to talk your parents into taking you out for ice cream after the game. Other than that–I’m lost.
I am sorry to say that soccer really holds no interest for me. Now, I could become a fan of this team:
And watching this could be entertaining:
But truth be to told, American football holds the same amount of interest for me. I find it boring and don’t even get me started on the rules of football. Frankly, I think they make them up as they go along. On Super Bowl Sunday when the majority of America is glued to the TV while they munch on hot wings, my youngest daughter and I have made a tradition of attending our own Anti-Super Bowl party. We go shopping, sometimes see a movie, and then treat ourselves to a winner, winner, steak dinner.
So, free world, enjoy your World Cup. I’ll be rooting for the chimps.