What The Cup Should I Do?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Reads: 185 | Comments: 0 | 1700Hi Shelli
I am a middle aged man living in South Africa. Everybody I know seems to have a tacky looking flag stuck on their car and some sort of wing mirror condom fitted. I can’t raise the slightest interest in anything to do with FIFA World Cup because I know we are all being ripped off by the Fat Controller (aka Sepp) and his merry men. How am I going to get through the next six weeks?
Peter (Parkhurst)
Hi Pete,
I know the purpose of this column is for me to be all gentle and supportive, but really, you sound like a bit of a whiner. I can only hope that you aren’t like this at work.
I could go into a lot of detail about your low self-esteem, deep-rooted anger at your father and slight homophobic tendencies, but every woman worth her salt knows that men never listen to a word we say. So it seems a bit of a waste of time, to be honest.
But if it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. In fact, my husband feels exactly the same way.
I, on the other hand, am trying my level best to get into the World Cup Spirit. And while I have bought tickets to the opening match and admittedly have a “tacky looking flag” stuck on my car (well, half a flag really - the flag bit broke off and so now I just have the little white stick), I am not that excited about ANY of it. And not because of any “Fat Controllers ripping us off” (I pay my Eskom bill every month, I’m used to the feeling) but because at the end of the day, it’s really just a group of men running chasing a ball around a field. And where’s the fun in that?
I feel the same way about Rugby. Early on in our marriage, before he lost the will to live, my husband took it upon himself to teach me the ins and outs of this strange game but ended up not speaking to me for at least three days when I happened to mention that it’s all a bit … gay, to be honest. And while I am quite happy with what people get up to behind closed doors, I really don’t want to spend an entire Saturday afternoon sitting on the couch watching men huddle up together in a “scrum” while surreptitiously touching someone’s bum. Long after the ball has disappeared.
Then there’s that funny little “lift” that Rugby players do when they are standing in a straight line. Two team members pick another one up (again by the bum, funny that) so that he can catch the ball. Which is thrown right at him, really, so it’s not THAT hard. Then they get all excited when it lands right in his outstretched arms, and there’s even more hugging. It has actually gotten to the point where I half expect one of the players to do a little happy dance when he’s told that he will be pulled off at half time…
Look, to be fair, Soccer is SLIGHTLY more of a manly game than Rugby because they actually have to score a goal, instead of Rugby players who just “try”. And soccer team members seem able to multitask by running AND kicking – instead Rugby players where one runs as fast as he can, the other one jumps on people all the time and another one gets to kicks the ball. But the truth is that I really can’t see myself screaming at the TV for six endless World Cup weeks in the hopes that one of the soccer coaches or referees can actually hear me.
But still, I think it’s important that I make some effort to support this national landmark. I’ll attend the opening match, I’ll cheer and shout where appropriate and try VERY hard to stay focussed on the players (instead of mentally giving the people sitting in the seats in front of me a makeover.) And I’ll attempt to look interested while the WCZs (World Cup Zealots) analyse each and every moment of each and every game.
And I would suggest you do the same.
Pretend.
Fake it.
Feign interest.
In fact, ask your wife or one of your ex-girlfriends to show you how. It’s remarkably easy.
Trust me!
What The Cup Should I Do?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Reads: 185 | Comments: 0 | 1700
Reads: 185 | Comments: 0 | 1700
Hi Shelli
I am a middle aged man living in South Africa. Everybody I know seems to have a tacky looking flag stuck on their car and some sort of wing mirror condom fitted. I can’t raise the slightest interest in anything to do with FIFA World Cup because I know we are all being ripped off by the Fat Controller (aka Sepp) and his merry men. How am I going to get through the next six weeks?
Peter (Parkhurst)
Hi Pete,
I know the purpose of this column is for me to be all gentle and supportive, but really, you sound like a bit of a whiner. I can only hope that you aren’t like this at work.
I could go into a lot of detail about your low self-esteem, deep-rooted anger at your father and slight homophobic tendencies, but every woman worth her salt knows that men never listen to a word we say. So it seems a bit of a waste of time, to be honest.
But if it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. In fact, my husband feels exactly the same way.
I, on the other hand, am trying my level best to get into the World Cup Spirit. And while I have bought tickets to the opening match and admittedly have a “tacky looking flag” stuck on my car (well, half a flag really - the flag bit broke off and so now I just have the little white stick), I am not that excited about ANY of it. And not because of any “Fat Controllers ripping us off” (I pay my Eskom bill every month, I’m used to the feeling) but because at the end of the day, it’s really just a group of men running chasing a ball around a field. And where’s the fun in that?
I feel the same way about Rugby. Early on in our marriage, before he lost the will to live, my husband took it upon himself to teach me the ins and outs of this strange game but ended up not speaking to me for at least three days when I happened to mention that it’s all a bit … gay, to be honest. And while I am quite happy with what people get up to behind closed doors, I really don’t want to spend an entire Saturday afternoon sitting on the couch watching men huddle up together in a “scrum” while surreptitiously touching someone’s bum. Long after the ball has disappeared.
Then there’s that funny little “lift” that Rugby players do when they are standing in a straight line. Two team members pick another one up (again by the bum, funny that) so that he can catch the ball. Which is thrown right at him, really, so it’s not THAT hard. Then they get all excited when it lands right in his outstretched arms, and there’s even more hugging. It has actually gotten to the point where I half expect one of the players to do a little happy dance when he’s told that he will be pulled off at half time…
Look, to be fair, Soccer is SLIGHTLY more of a manly game than Rugby because they actually have to score a goal, instead of Rugby players who just “try”. And soccer team members seem able to multitask by running AND kicking – instead Rugby players where one runs as fast as he can, the other one jumps on people all the time and another one gets to kicks the ball. But the truth is that I really can’t see myself screaming at the TV for six endless World Cup weeks in the hopes that one of the soccer coaches or referees can actually hear me.
But still, I think it’s important that I make some effort to support this national landmark. I’ll attend the opening match, I’ll cheer and shout where appropriate and try VERY hard to stay focussed on the players (instead of mentally giving the people sitting in the seats in front of me a makeover.) And I’ll attempt to look interested while the WCZs (World Cup Zealots) analyse each and every moment of each and every game.
And I would suggest you do the same.
Pretend.
Fake it.
Feign interest.
In fact, ask your wife or one of your ex-girlfriends to show you how. It’s remarkably easy.
Trust me!
I am a middle aged man living in South Africa. Everybody I know seems to have a tacky looking flag stuck on their car and some sort of wing mirror condom fitted. I can’t raise the slightest interest in anything to do with FIFA World Cup because I know we are all being ripped off by the Fat Controller (aka Sepp) and his merry men. How am I going to get through the next six weeks?
Peter (Parkhurst)
Hi Pete,
I know the purpose of this column is for me to be all gentle and supportive, but really, you sound like a bit of a whiner. I can only hope that you aren’t like this at work.
I could go into a lot of detail about your low self-esteem, deep-rooted anger at your father and slight homophobic tendencies, but every woman worth her salt knows that men never listen to a word we say. So it seems a bit of a waste of time, to be honest.
But if it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. In fact, my husband feels exactly the same way.
I, on the other hand, am trying my level best to get into the World Cup Spirit. And while I have bought tickets to the opening match and admittedly have a “tacky looking flag” stuck on my car (well, half a flag really - the flag bit broke off and so now I just have the little white stick), I am not that excited about ANY of it. And not because of any “Fat Controllers ripping us off” (I pay my Eskom bill every month, I’m used to the feeling) but because at the end of the day, it’s really just a group of men running chasing a ball around a field. And where’s the fun in that?
I feel the same way about Rugby. Early on in our marriage, before he lost the will to live, my husband took it upon himself to teach me the ins and outs of this strange game but ended up not speaking to me for at least three days when I happened to mention that it’s all a bit … gay, to be honest. And while I am quite happy with what people get up to behind closed doors, I really don’t want to spend an entire Saturday afternoon sitting on the couch watching men huddle up together in a “scrum” while surreptitiously touching someone’s bum. Long after the ball has disappeared.
Then there’s that funny little “lift” that Rugby players do when they are standing in a straight line. Two team members pick another one up (again by the bum, funny that) so that he can catch the ball. Which is thrown right at him, really, so it’s not THAT hard. Then they get all excited when it lands right in his outstretched arms, and there’s even more hugging. It has actually gotten to the point where I half expect one of the players to do a little happy dance when he’s told that he will be pulled off at half time…
Look, to be fair, Soccer is SLIGHTLY more of a manly game than Rugby because they actually have to score a goal, instead of Rugby players who just “try”. And soccer team members seem able to multitask by running AND kicking – instead Rugby players where one runs as fast as he can, the other one jumps on people all the time and another one gets to kicks the ball. But the truth is that I really can’t see myself screaming at the TV for six endless World Cup weeks in the hopes that one of the soccer coaches or referees can actually hear me.
But still, I think it’s important that I make some effort to support this national landmark. I’ll attend the opening match, I’ll cheer and shout where appropriate and try VERY hard to stay focussed on the players (instead of mentally giving the people sitting in the seats in front of me a makeover.) And I’ll attempt to look interested while the WCZs (World Cup Zealots) analyse each and every moment of each and every game.
And I would suggest you do the same.
Pretend.
Fake it.
Feign interest.
In fact, ask your wife or one of your ex-girlfriends to show you how. It’s remarkably easy.
Trust me!
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