Are You Ready for Some Futball, Mate?
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Moving to Germany I knew that I was going to be able to watch plenty of football. Big fans here. Always a good time especially when the taps draught, but the problem is the football is round. And no one wears a helmet.
The NFL season is underway and it has been burned into my genetic code that I must watch at least three hours of bonecrushing, nickel-defense, west coast offense, over-payed, human growth hormone users, playing a kids game on Sunday afternoon. I’m a junkie, a crack whore with no money in his pocket, who will gladly get you off while wearing a Little Bo Peep outfit to get my fix. Fortunately the only whoring I’ve ever done was that in client’s conference rooms.
I found a bar where Ex-Pats come together to root for the downfall of the Pats. Where the Green Bay Nachos serve up less fumbles then their namesakes. They have beer and multiple TV’s airing the games live. Perfection. The one o’clock games come on at 7pm here letting the games run from 7 to about 6 in the morning. It would seem that this crack den of sports will keep serving till the sun comes up if there are important games being broadcasted. Resulting in Monday Morning sick calls like, “Hey I won’t be coming in today, I have turf toe on my eyes. Yeah its very contagious.”
I sat done with some fanatics, order up my beer, got ready to hear the pithy, innate comments of announcers that I knew, not necessarily liked, but knew. What did I get… a Brit. A bloody, limey Brit talking about the arm of Michael Vick. Telling me how Brett Favre should retire, and all that rot. Fuck all man, the British know American football as well as we know European football. Blood pudding is not an acceptable tailgating food. And the Queen has never heard of LT, either one of them. I never thought I would say that I miss listening to John Madden’s obnoxious blather. I not saying it yet, but it might happen after 17 weeks of, “Oh that run was the Dog’s Bollocks. Those colonist surely do know how to crush each other most unmercifully.”
Nonetheless, I’ve got my football, I’ve got my beer, I’ve got my woman, now excuse me the kick off is underway and I haven’t gotten my order of Bedfordshire clanger.
Labels: football, sports, sunday afternoon
posted by Don Taylor @ 1:07 PM,
