I know that writers shouldnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t use their privileged position to purge their souls of things that are bothering them, but on this occasion I have no choice but to share something with you all.
I have a very terrible confession to make and I think it is appropriate to make a full and frank public admission on a prominent Football website such as this. If you read on I am sure you will understand why I have to take drastic action.
I have often wondered what it is about Football that gets my emotions running so high. Like all true footy fans I have felt excitement, joy, frustration, disappointment, anger and every extreme feeling known to the human race, all about this bloody silly game that we all love.
When you think about it the whole situation seems pretty daft. There are many things in life that are more important than football. The great Bill Shankley was definitely not serious when he said that football was more important than life and death. So how has the game taken over my life so completely?
I spend my life thinking about football, talking about football, watching football, playing football, coaching football and writing about football. I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t really think IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m a sad hopeless individual but when I actually analyse my life I realize that there is no doubt that the game occupies a dangerously disproportionate chunk of my waking hours. Seeing what I have just written in black and white is a frightening reminder of how far I have fallen into the football trap. I probably dream about it as well, but luckily, I am not someone who remembers my dreams.
The reason I am writing like this is because something happened to me the other day that has shaken me to my very core. It has made me reassess my life and consider my past, present and future.
When I married my wonderful wife some twenty-three years ago she knew I was obsessed with game. I even used to drag her along to Watford games. She wasnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t a big footy fan but she put up with it for the sake of harmonious relations.
As the years passed and my obsession developed to the stage whereby any psychologist worth his or her salt would suggest I was a serious sufferer of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and desperately needed treatment, my wife continued to humour me. She even took the fact that we had three football mad sons squarely on the chin and came back fighting and smiling.
Despite the fact that my wife has discovered a love for sudoku, computer games, crosswords, reading, book clubs, cooking, etc, etc, she has been forced to watch many, many hours of the beautiful game. I have tried to go easy on how much I watch. I mean there was one Monday night last season when as a huge favour to my wife I only watched the first half of a conference game between Histon and Weymouth. Did I get any thanks? No, she said it was only fair that I spent some time with her on her birthday.
Anyway, my poor long suffering wife has been force fed football for too many years. She even quite enjoys watching some of it now. She draws the line at Conference or lower league footy but the Premier League, Internationals and anything involving David Beckham (her unhealthy obsession!) she doesnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t mind watching at all. It really has become a case of Ã¢â‚¬Ëœif you canÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t beat them join them.Ã¢â‚¬â„¢
Despite being somewhat ashamed and embarrassed by the way football has overshadowed our marriage I thought everything in our lives was OK. Then, a couple of days ago I woke my wife up with a nice cup of coffee. As she slowly came to she spoke out loud what she was obviously dreaming about. What I heard stopped me in my tracks. I realized that things had gone too far. I was given a rude and timely reminder that things have gone too far.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“But they nearly always play a flat back four,Ã¢â‚¬Â she said!
I have finally driven my beautiful, attractive, intelligent wife, who used to have a life, so far that she is actually dreaming about football tactics. It is a day that she would never have thought possible and a moment that she will always remember as the time she finally Ã¢â‚¬Ëœgave inÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ and my obsession took over her as well.
I am so sorry. You have no idea how terrible I feel.
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