I am not a sports fan, except for Wimbledon tennis which I used to watch with my mother as a teenager, when I deeply admired Chrissie Evert's pretty dresses, nice legs and frilly knickers. I am not so keen any more as the girls are not very feminine and look as if they are beefed up with steroids. These days, I have to pretend to enjoy rugby with my husband as there is usually no-one else for him to watch the games with. Annoyingly, they take place on a Saturday afternoon which used to annoy me more than it does now that we are retired and are hard put to it to keep track of days of the week. Watching a game, to keep my sanity and to feign interest, goes like this:
Person A: Hey ref, you missed that foul.
Person B: Gosh, look at that man's legs - they are huge.
Person A: Oh you idiot - that was forward.
Person B: How come that guy is wearing one pink boot and one yellow one?
Person A: Come on you guys, pass to the line!
Person B: I am sure that guy dyes his hair.
Person A: They should get that guy off the team
Person B: I can't believe that one's hair is so long - it must get in his way
Person A: This ref is definitely biassed
Person B: They should show more of the cheerleaders
Person A: Oh no, they collapsed the scrum again
Person B: Which team are we supporting?
And so forth.....
Could you guess which one is me? If all else fails, I keep my eyes on the timer but 90 minutes is a long time. I do admire the fearlessness and persistence with which the guys crash into each other (they only have gum guards). Some of them are even good-looking apart from their cauliflower ears. Not many are actual eye-candy. That is for swimmers or divers. Now those I can watch.