In the Antipodes it’s called ice hockey. I try to go most weekends, during season and when I’m in the state/ country. I’ve just returned from a game. We lost to Newcastle, 2 – 0. They’re hard to beat every game, every season. I’m not a puck bunny. I’m the antithesis of such a notion. I’ve been following the team before they moved to their nice, clean, and resplendent rink. I followed them when they needed me to help out making sandwiches for the team on tour, buttering sandwiches on an ironing board, helping the mothers of the players and board members/ staunch supporters who travel with the team interstate… Before we won three championships in a row. Whether they win or lose, I’ll get outrageously drunk at the pub after it and talk a load of old bollocks to lots of people. Because that is what you do when you follow a team whether they win or lose.
Just because your new boyfriend (real or imaginary) plays (or wishes he could), doesn’t mean you should start showing up/ taking an interest. Oh, you only pretend to care because he does and you get paid in orgasms? That’s more like it, you mercenary, you! That was me being facetious. Yeah, I didn’t think you would pick up on the subtleties. Hence why I pointed out the glaringly obvious. Even though I am very drunk, post hockey. Currently having to triple and quadruple edit everything I type. I’ll move on to writing my magnum opus now. See you all at the bar… Or if you’re a real fan, at the game. Even when the team loses.