No-one Said It Would Be Easy
As a point of bizarre coincidence, all of my ex-boyfriends, without exception, have been Liverpool supporters (or at least, if pressed, would admit a preference for Liverpool, even if they aren't active football fans). This means that despite being a diehard QPR fan myself, I do have a special affection reserved for Liverpool. And after all, let's face it, as QPR will never again grace the Premier League, this hardly presents a conflict of interest.
And so, of course, I found myself glued to the sofa last night watching with bated breath as the boys managed to defy all odds and put up a valiant fight to win the Champions League cup by a whisker. I will even admit to screaming with joy, punching the air, running round the room, and then bursting into tears. But to be honest, men across the country did that too, so I don't feel too embarassed...
It's a strange feeling though, watching a crucial Liverpool match. I feel almost cosmically connected to all the men I've loved, shagged, hated, lost, and left. Because I know that the majority of them will be watching the same action that I am, experiencing the same reactions... It's weird, quite frankly.
When they won, I felt an almost overwhelming urge to ring Beano, and scream hysterically down the phone, because I knew how much he'd be screaming back. And, I suppose, because I knew that in that moment, he wouldn't be able to hate anyone, not even me. And there are times when I do miss the Beano who doesn't kind of hate me.
Funny, the things that football can do to you.
And so, of course, I found myself glued to the sofa last night watching with bated breath as the boys managed to defy all odds and put up a valiant fight to win the Champions League cup by a whisker. I will even admit to screaming with joy, punching the air, running round the room, and then bursting into tears. But to be honest, men across the country did that too, so I don't feel too embarassed...
It's a strange feeling though, watching a crucial Liverpool match. I feel almost cosmically connected to all the men I've loved, shagged, hated, lost, and left. Because I know that the majority of them will be watching the same action that I am, experiencing the same reactions... It's weird, quite frankly.
When they won, I felt an almost overwhelming urge to ring Beano, and scream hysterically down the phone, because I knew how much he'd be screaming back. And, I suppose, because I knew that in that moment, he wouldn't be able to hate anyone, not even me. And there are times when I do miss the Beano who doesn't kind of hate me.
Funny, the things that football can do to you.
posted by Mookmoo at 1:09 pm
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