Summer has finally arrived, kissing New York City with glorious sunshine and crystal blue skies.
English Hubby turns to me this morning and sweetly coons, “let’s do something together”. So, where else would we be but (note a hint of sarcasm here) sitting in our local pub watching football [aka soccer, dear Americans]. English Hubby has lured me to the Champions League Final – Barcelona v Manchester United.
So here we are. Sitting at the bar watching grown men in tight shorts chase a ball. I’ve penetrated the sacred man cave. We sit with others of his species perched at the altar (read: bar), where golden nectar (read: beer) is served by the pint. All warmed by the glow of the flickering flat screen (read: Fox Sports).
Here in this cavern, they mutter in man code: “they’re not man marking, giving them too much space”. He is engrossed in a sacred bond with the person sitting to the left. I watch like a zoologist studying subjects in their natural habitat.
Observation #1 – Man cave noise crescendos every time the ball gets closer to the goal, accompanied by exaggerated head clasped by hands movement, vigorous shaking and gripping of napkins. Chugging of precious nectar tends to ease tensions.
Observation #2 – Barcelona scores. Television coverage zooms in on players leaping into the air and bumping chests. Pray tell dear reader, what purpose does it serve? Nevertheless, this action seems to invigorate the man cave spectators.
Observation #3 – It is a myth that men can’t multi task. Plenty of evidence of simultaneous nectar drinking, conversation, and watching of half time ads. Appears to be well honed talent.
Observation #4 – Male species has fine tuned communication skills, particularly adept at providing timely, specific feedback.
- Beautiful, just beautiful, hopefully you’ll actually start playing now
- Excellent, well played, now get the ball
- You can’t let him run all that way without tackling him
- It should never have been a goal from there. We’ve got to start playing properly. Look at this, it’s ridiculous defending
- Oh, c’mon boys, don’t go backwards, go forwards
- Ah, get up you big girl!
It’s a pity the Man-U players can’t hear English Hubby. After all, they are only 5,000 miles out of ear shot.
Observation #5 – Feeding time at the man cave is dominated by fish and chips or bangers and mash, both with ample servings of HP sauce. Judging by the accents, said food must stimulate pleasant associations of home.
Match is over. English obliterated by Spaniards. English Hubby is saddened. Looks like I will have to take him shopping for a summer dress and shoes to cheer him up.
Yes…the things we do for love.
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