Until recently, I had not been particularly athletic, and I'm not a sports fan. I know this is out of the ordinary; just about everyone on the planet, it seems, is some kind of sports fan. Just the other day, I had the always awkward conversation--once again--with someone I had just met about being a sports fan. I have yet to figure out how to explain this to people in a way that they are not offended. I don't think there's anything wrong with being a sports fan, I'm just not one.
Anyway, as I continued to play tennis and then began following the World Cup--because it was happening in South Africa--my brother-in-law began to wonder who in the heck I was. This is a man that has known me for over half of my life at this point and so when I began updating my Facebook status with tennis accomplishments and cheers for World Cup teams, he coined a new name for me, "Sporty Tricia."
Yesterday morning, I was getting ready for work when my neighbor Emily stopped by. She asked me to sit with her younger son, who was home sick, while she took the older one to school. Christopher is six years old and in Kindergarten; he was hanging out on the couch watching the NFL network. Now, at age six, Christopher can instantly recognize the logos of every team in the NFL on the crawl and can carry on an entire conversation about the sport--he knows the players, a bunch of strategy stuff I don't understand, you name it. My understanding of American football is limited to a rudimentary knowledge of scoring, plus some players names and some team names. Apparently the Steelers played really well on Sunday night. During a commercial break, Christopher switched over to the NHL Network and proceeded to give me the rundown on the hockey games, teams, and players as well.
It was like having my own personal version of ESPN's SportsCenter, first thing on my first day back to work in 2011.
Kathmandu without monsoons is great!
8 years ago
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