Never thought I would write a post about soccer. And yet, here I am.
I don't like soccer much. I just don't find it that interesting. A lot of running back and forth across the long field and not a lot of points being scored. Did you know that you can watch a whole game - that's 90 minutes, minimum - and not know who won? Oh right, because no one did. How lame is that? 90 minutes and no winner. In French, that kind of game is called un match nul. Which pretty much sums it up. A nothing match. Husband has tried to explain to me the merits of the sport and even the merits of the nothing match. I just kept saying, "Yeah, whatever, but come on, 90 minutes and no winner? If I were there, I would ask for a ticket refund." He shook his head in despair and gave up.
We've now entered into the part of the World Cup where there can no longer (thank you) be any nothing matches. Someone has to win.
Last night, Husband wisely went out with friends to watch the game. I watched a Sex and the City dvd, which Husband bought for me so I would have something to watch during the insanity that is the World Cup. Isn't that sweet?
Like I said, I didn't watch the game against Spain last night. But I may as well have.
It's hot here. Everyone has their windows open in the evening, including us, hoping for a cooling breeze. Well, last night, that breeze came accompanied. I knew when everyone of the four points was scored, and of course, according to the collective moans or cheers, by which team. I knew when it was half-time and I CERTAINLY knew when the game was over.
Husband was in a EXCELLENT mood this morning. Which is saying a lot because he's totally not a morning person.