Mrs Tnfive changes her tune
Euro 2012 - an event that I have
dreaded with a passion. Well, what was there to look forward to? Night after
night of ‘boring football’ taking over the TV. Long lonely evenings spent
contemplating my navel whilst listening to my dear husband’s shouts of ‘Get
in!!!!!’ and ‘That’s clearly off-side!’ coming from the living room. To be
frank, I thought I would rather pull my toenails out one by one with a pair of
rusty pliers than subject myself to this utter Euro tosh. However, for some
unknown reason I couldn’t shake off this niggling feeling inside me, this
little voice in my head that kept saying ‘Go on! Give it a go. You never know,
you might actually enjoy it!’ Well, who am I to ignore the call to the
beautiful game? If nothing else I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. So, I took a
deep breath and took the plunge into Euro 2012. After all, if you can’t beat ‘em,
join ‘em.
Ok, I admit. I did have a beer or
two during that first nail-biting game between Greece and Poland which probably
helped to fuel my enthusiasm, and pushed me to shout at the telly every time
the ref got his red card out. But, beer or no beer by the time the first match
was over I was finding myself thinking ‘Mmm. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe I’ll
watch the next one?’
A couple of games in and enter Cristiano
Ronaldo. Now for some reason this guy is a bit like Marmite – you either love
him or loathe him. He appears to have a huge army of female fans but the jury’s
still out as far as this female is concerned. I have to say, the bloke is good-looking but
aside from the fact that he looked like he’d had a swim in a vat of chip fat
before that first game, his change of hairstyle at half time seriously put me
off. Sorry Ron, but you’ll be relieved to hear that I won’t be joining your fan
club or sending you marriage proposals any time soon. (‘I should think not!’
says ‘him indoors’). Any footballer that spends his 15 minutes off restyling
his barnet instead of sucking on a piece of orange is just not for me.
Anyway, I digress. By the time
the first England match rolled around, I was seriously getting into this
football lark. I had ‘tweeted’ and posted on Facebook, joined in discussions
about Ron’s fancy step-overs and I’d even hung a string of St George flags from
my Juliette balcony. ‘Quite a change’ I hear you cry. I hadn’t been this
interested in football since Italia ’90 when I only tuned in to gawp at Gary
Lineker’s legs!
So, as I write I am watching the
England v Ukraine game (yes you read that right. I’m a woman, I can multi-task!)
and there is more than just a teensy weensy bit of me that desperately wants
Rooney to score a hat trick. I am shouting at the TV as Tymoshchuk fouls Scott
Parker, tweeting and facebooking about Ukraine’s poor luck on that ball crossing
the line, getting that heart-sinking feeling when Shevchenko comes on (please
don’t score again!) and laughing at Blokhin’s over enthusiastic hand gestures.
I am happy. Very happy. At last I
feel as though I know something about
football and after 11 years of marriage I finally understand my husband’s
passion for the game. I have you to thank for that. Yes you – Euro 2012.
And…………………………………I think I might even
(just maybe!) understand the off-side rule!!
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