FFL. You lost me a bit with the soccer piece (speaking of a previous post on the African Cup)
Me. So you’re not a fan of the beautiful game?
FFL. It was 14 years ago. Italy broke my heart. I literally felt like dying. I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I had swallowed a watermelon. I couldn’t sleep with butterflies in my stomach, tears running down my cheeks. It was a horrible, gross, undignified feeling.
Me. I find it funny that the only time it seems ok for guys to cry is when their team loses in a sports match.
FFL. So true. Especially when our egos are bruised….soccer was so intimate for me. But I outgrew it because I didn’t want to spend the whole night crying.
Me. But don’t you think you can get to a point where you won’t get so emotional and just enjoy the game?
FFL. I was a big mouth and 95% of what I predicted came true so my confidence increased and my passion was uplifted. Every win felt like a new year. So when we lost to France, I was crushed to pieces. I know the thrill is addictive but the heartbreak is too brutal for me to digest.
Me. I guess it can be both beautiful and ugly. Like everything else though, we need to take away from it the good, and leave the bad…and also like everything else, make sure we don’t go to extremes…