The Life and Times of World Cup

I love sports. I love them for a variety of reasons: I love playing them, I love competition (I am a Leo, after all. We're kind of competitive obsessed. Oh, and we hate losing. Hate it. With a passion.), I love team mentality done right (I still think of my college tennis teammates as teammates, and I'll still do anything for them), and I love when people are good sports.

I'm watching the World Cup. Are you?

Granted, I'll be the first to admit that I really don't know the first blasted thing about football (or, soccer). I played in gym class in high school, but that's about it. And of course, it's something the rest of the world is obsessed with, with the US lagging a bit behind; something that sparks supporter culture and pub fights and sometimes divides families worse than the Montagues and Capulets. Or maybe that's what they were fighting about, really, and not so much this love thing.

After watching the first England match in Spanish courtesy of the free live-stream of all matches by Univision in my Small Apartment, I caught their second (uninspired, if I may add) match against Algeria live, on a Scottish pub with my friends. And while I still can't accurately tell you when, exactly, someone is offside, I can say that there really is nothing like watching a sporting event, with people who really know what they're talking about, and are really, really, into it.

...which means that this Wednesday, at 9:30 in the morning, I'll be right back at the pub, with everyone else, hoping for more inspiring play, probably drinking coffee (at least at first), and singing along to "God Save the Queen" (albeit slightly off key, but I do know the words).

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