I was sitting at the dinner table last night and I found myself amidst the presence of another language. Now this wasn’t a kind of exotic, vibrant and intriguing language that aroused interest and awe but rather a dull, drone that did nothing but baffle me. The language of football.
Wow. Never, in my 16 years of living, have I experienced such a draining 20 minutes filled with my brothers and father going on about players, transfers, leagues and a number of other dull words. I mean I’ve heard my guy mates talk about it in small doses, but this…this was something else.
As the foreign fumble of words darted back and forth across the table, I felt lost- stranded in a sister-less household.
And the worst bit? The jabber was so intense and peculiar I couldn’t find an entrance in to the conversation. So I sat there and enjoyed flattening my mash potato with a spoon.
How can a conversation go on for so blimming long on what is essentially a bunch of overpaid sissies trying to kick a ball into a net? I mean don’t mistake me for one of these footy-despising females because I actually quite like playing it and watching it can sometimes be enjoyable( only, of course, if there are men on the pitch who aesthetically please and there’s another girl in the room to discuss this with)
Yesterday, however, I learnt an invaluable lesson. That’s right- listening to the unfamiliar, incessant drone between the males across the dinner table taught me that I can actually appear clued up on the whole football scene. You see, I noticed that lots of the same phrases popped up in the noise that vacated their mouths. So, by repeating these(and forcing a face of genuine interest), I have myself a brilliant way to engage with the male species.
Ladies, if you’re interested in this discovery, here’s a few phrases to get you started:
‘‘That ref was a JOKE” ”it was end to end” ”He’s only in it for the money ”There was NO WAY that was a penalty” ”what was he doing upfront?” “He’s bloody clueless” ”Should have taken him off second half” ”We need to rest him before next match” ”what a touch” “he hasn’t got a football brain’’ ‘’He’s a liability- picks up too many yellows” “The defence was a complete shambles-all over the place” ” ”What was the REF THINKING?”
So, there it is- my attempt at scraping the surface of the footy lingo. Now it’s time to conquer cars.
Talking of cars…Gor, how’s about that new Porsche Cayenne diesel? 3.0-litre V6 turbo diesel under the hood but pepped up with a new turbocharger, revised injectors and improved internal friction for slightly more power at 249bhp –she’s one beautiful beast.
See, a little listening here and there and I’m practically a man.