The World Cup starts next Friday and will last 4 long weeks! I can already hear some screaming in disbelief: impossible!
Indeed, ladies, the news has hardly spared us so far. The scandal of the sexual amusement parks which Germany had the bright idea to reserve for all those poor supporters, frustrated by the defeat of their favorite team who will surely feel the irresistible need to be cuddled by all those women “provided” for that purpose! They think of everything, those Germans!
The unveiling of our national team’s selection was orchestrated like a true blockbuster and sparked the first controversy of a list that will surely be long, Mr. Domenech (the coach, editor’s note!) having reserved his indispensable comments for a famous telecommunications network, for a fee! A disgrace, our men cried out in unison during the grand Sunday morning sermon! But no, not the Lord’s Day, but TELEFOOT, of course!
The everlasting analyses by the men of the family during Sunday meals about France’s last two exhibition matches – not to mention their always insightful predictions! – it’s somewhat tense, I agree!
Please know, ladies, that some – unfortunately, including myself – are in an even more delicate situation as they meet several of these ominous criteria.
Indeed, let me explain: coming from a family of high-level athletes (boxing champion of France, third division rugby player, and first division football players), I am the wife of a former rugby player, mother, and stepmother of a group of boys, one of whom is reaching his teenage years, precisely this year, and who thinks he can better handle his emerging masculinity by also participating in this grand exchange of ideas, analyses, and football predictions on a national scale, not to mention the youngest who is reaching an important milestone, the age of reason and wants to demonstrate the pertinence of his comments just as much! But I’m getting carried away, victim myself of this media and advertising tide!
Here are a few tips for all those who cannot escape from all this sporting communion but who can, on the contrary, try to share in this misunderstood passion with their spouse.
First, show your interest by asking basic questions about the tactics of a certain team or the chances of another, but especially avoid asking to be explained the offside rule during a match: it is a sure conflict! And anyway, you’re not genetically programmed to assimilate it! Scientists would explain this due to a lack of testosterone in women!
Next, remember, when you’re shopping, to stock up your husband and his many friends – whom you will not fail to invite to your home, on the evenings of big matches, i.e., France/something! – with all sorts of cholesterol-worsening snacks such as beer (the southern variant, rosé, being accepted for the Mediterranean rim!), chips, peanuts, and pizzas! A personal suggestion: honey lozenges, to be used in only two cases, goals scored by France and those conceded… by Barthez!
Finally, on evenings when you do not feel up to supporting your husband during these football vigils – I was almost going to call them somber! – do not hope to take refuge on another channel, if you have a second television. Even Arte has abandoned us to our sad condition and is flaunting as a provocation its new logo for the upcoming month: ARTE topped with… a soccer ball!
Lastly, call upon Saint Rita for assistance to help France reach the finals. Otherwise, I fear that despite all your charms highlighted by your usual pre-summer diet, you may be forced to put your libido in… oops, pardon, in mourning!
CV
