Announcement: I have made the decision to start following the Premiership. Plans have been made for this Saturday morning to watch the opening matches at a bar not three blocks from my condo. My team shall be Arsenal based exclusively on the fact that my father-in-law follows them. This way, when the inevitable conversation about football comes up over e-mail/phone calls/holiday dinner aperitifs/etc., I can, at the very least, contribute to the conversation. (Cue all the Man U./Liverpool/Chelsea fans who'll tell me my team sucks.)
This is not a completely out of the blue decision to follow football. When Liz and I started dating, we followed England during the 06 World Cup, which, yes, involved cramming into a bar in the early morning hours with other hooligans. (Full English breakfasts and beer in the morning. Looking forward to having them in my life again.)
One sport I can't comprehend is cricket. Not for a lack of trying though. The first time I was in London, I watched about 90 minutes of cricket whilst nursing a major absinthe-induced hangover. Just about when I thought I figured out the rules, time was called and a tea cart was pushed out onto the field. I remain baffled.
That was until one of our friends gave us this ridiculous tea towel that explains the rules for cricket. Dean's a superfan of the sport, and God bless him for at least trying to get this Yankee to come around to it, but I still don't get it. (Cue the fans on this blog from Australia who'll tell me why cricket is the greatest sport ever.)
Okay, share the puzzle. New one on Friday.
Oh, and one final thing: Behold this hot new pic of yours truly.