Monday, 12 May 2008

On bad sportsmanship

My girlfriend and I spent yesterday in the country at her parents house. It was great weather and her little brother insisted we all play football in the garden. So myself and her dad were pitted against her, her brother and her mum, with the parents in our respective goals and the rest of us outfield. My girlfriend is very competitive, and despite hating football, she went about it with great gusto, launching enthusiastically into every tackle and shot. Whilst a keen sportswoman, she's usually very ladylike and elegant and from looking at her on a normal day, you'd be surprised that she'd get so into a game of football.

I went about my game tackling lightly and making sure I didn't blast the ball too hard at her mum, who despite screaming whenever I got close was actually a fucking good goalkeeper. Meanwhile, Amelie ran around like a woman possessed, kicking fuck out of my ankles with each horrendously mistimed challenge. Then I was about to take the ball from her with a light tap, but as I approached, I slipped on the grass, and went to ground, sliding along and completely taking her out in what must have looked like a venomous and vengeful two-footed challenge.

Luckily no-one was hurt, and her parents know me well enough to know I meant no harm (I hope), but still, I felt like a cunt.

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