I played football the other day for the first time in about 10 years. I’m not exactly sure how I ended up agreeing to participate, but it quickly became apparent that it was not going to turn out well. I probably should have cottoned on when the two Italian guys had football boots without studs for ease of use in an indoor arena.
In any case, I was trying to find an out from the word go, but ended up having to endure 40 minutes of it in which I almost scored an own goal; got nailed in the balls almost passing out; and nearly dislocated someone’s knee by pushing them into a wall.
Hasty excuses were made, and secret oaths taken to never again play football neither for love nor money.
Fortunately as an alternative, I’ve discovered some joggers with whom I joined today for a few laps of Parc Montsouris. Now, admittedly I had been warned about this by various bloggers (Le Blagueur en fait), but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Women… running… dressed in sequins, silk scarfs, and off the shoulder sweater numbers.
Nike weeps for this lost nation.
H is a 25 y/o New Zealand born ex-pat, pursuing a PhD in Artificial Intelligence at Imperial College in London
1 Comment
November 6, 2006 at 9:03 am
Sounds … well, different to back home.
Kia ora from across the way, writes the kiwi living in Belgium.