It is no great sweeping statement when I say that most girls just don't get football. Football players, yes, but the sport itself... Not so much. Obviously not every female out there is footie-illiterate, the same way not all blokes make daily declarations of love and adoration for their team but facts are facts; women and football tend to go down about as well and tomato ketchup on ice cream. Ew.
I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. I support a team, I dislike our rivals, I pay attention to our scores and position in the league, in theory I understand the offside rule and I know that an own goal is worse than owning a fake Louis Vuitton. I should know more, considering I've grown up in a football mad household where even my childhood best friend will be caught off guard singing QPR chants and given than my Dad has worked for various football clubs over the past God knows how many years, but truth be told sport was never really my thing. Unless you classify Westfield White City as a race track, in which case, I'm a 60 time Gold Medalist.
In roughly 3 hours time, England play Italy, which I'm sure you all know unless you've been living under a rock for the past 2 weeks. I love it when my two nationalities collide. Obviously, I am team England, I grew up here, I was BORN here, I have an English passport and well, I AM ENGLISH! It drives me mad when friends of mine who are also of both nationalities and have also grown up here ect ect appear to support Italy. Although, I reckon that if it had been my Dad who was the Italian and not my mum, I would probably be one of those annoyances too. None the less, England winning today would be wonderful and yes, would allow me to gloat a little bit towards all the 'FORZZZAAAA ITALIAAAAAA' statuses that I am sure will appear on my newsfeed as the game goes on.
I'm watching the game down at The Bar. It will be full of loud, beer'd up men shouting at the big screen. They can be quite scary in packs. I plan on drinking just enough strawberry cider so that I can retain what information I actually DO know on the sport whilst being able to be slightly more enthusiastic about the game than I would be without the alcohol in my bloodstream. Especially since Beckham isn't on the team anymore (hasn't been for a while, I know) paying attention to the likes of Wayne Rooney and that scumbag John Terry is difficult.
Hence why you will find me, my strawberry cider and my girlie knowledge of football in the corner, very quietly mumbling to myself that the referee is indeed a wanker and humming the tune to 'Vindaloo'.
Happy football!
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