I’m lucky. My hubby is not into sports.
He’s not glued to the TV screen 24/7 on weekends, he couldn’t care less if there’s a football match on, or skiing, or whatever. Sport is flicked over in our household.
Now, in my sister’s life, things are different. She has a football fanatic hubby, and three boys. Guess what they’ve inherited? A lifetime membership in the Manchester United (or perhaps Liverpool FC) fan club, that’s what. She’s a patient soul, and grateful for small mercies, like the fact that her hubby sometimes takes all three boys to football matches. In England.
As for me, I don’t get it. I quite like swimming, but not to the point of watching other people doing it. I’ve also been known to enjoy a game of badminton. Actually playing it. Badminton or tennis on TV is like watching paint dry. Skiing, or running? Come on. I know one of them is going to come in a fraction of a second before the others, and I don’t care which one it is. (Don’t try to explain. I still won’t get it).
I’m just eternally grateful that whenever we do manage to travel a bit, there’s no mention of sports events. I know that if we ever manage to make it to USA, New York Yankees tickets will not be on the agenda. We might catch a rodeo though (no, probably not in NYC), to experience a bit of local culture…
Stumble it!
