What I know about football

Team A and Team B both try to kick the ball into each other’s goal. Every time the ball goes in, one point is scored. The team with the most points after 90 minutes of playing, wins.

The End.

I don’t know what the offside rule is all about, even though I once read an explanation involving shoe shopping, a forgotten purse, and someone throwing her wallet over the crowd of shoppers so that her friend didn’t have to give up her place in the queue at the till. This makes no sense to me whatsoever as I prefer to shop alone and would never set foot in a shoe store without my wallet.

I don’t know what corners are all about, nor do I know what coup franc or surface de reparation are. I don’t even know what they are in English, let alone what they actually mean. Whereas a corner is un corner in French, so at least that’s nice and easy.

I do know that many footballs players, as soon as they are bumped into by a member of the opposing team, tend to fall down and writhe around on the ground in mock agony, pulling dreadful faces. Sort of like me when I get a papercut or break a nail. This is why I can safely say they are attention seeking drama queens – no offense guys, but it takes one to know one.

So why have I been watching the World Cup matches ?

Because it’s fun to watch good looking men in shorts run around, getting all sweaty. Yes, Freddie “Get your kit off” Ljundberg is but the tip of the hottie iceberg, so to speak.

Because S wants to, and I like hanging out with him in bars, smoking and drinking beer. The football is incidental.

And last but not least, because France. July 1998. That is all.

Having been here and lived through that, even the most die hard bah humbug anti-football could not care less about sports in general person cannot help but get at least a little bit excited at the thought of the World Cup.

Allez les Bleus !