imagine if

socceroo

socceroo
Written by Cathoel Jorss,

Last night, lying on the couch wrapped in a blanket and reading his book, my companion said, thoughtfully, “Now is about the time I wouldn’t mind watching some football.” Ah, if only we had a TV. But we don’t! I decided to act some out for him, make him feel at home. I snatched up a basket that was lying about and clutched it jealously against my ribs, made a scuttled rush across the floor, growling. Arr, I said, growwwwr. Dumped the basket just inside the next doorway and rolled and fell, invisibly tackled from behind. Rawwwwwr, I said: rawwwwwwwr! (That’s the crowd). He watched, marking his place with a long finger. “That was good. But when I say football, really I am talking about soccer.” The European game! Oh, then… I sat down and we went back to our books.

5 comments on “socceroo

  1. Sufiyo says:

    What no soccer charades’ report?! ;)

  2. Cathoel Jorss says:

    Oh Jon, it does seem to be somehow a more elegant game, doesn’t it? I don’t know why. I know little about either but the one feels more like flying and the other more like ploughing people down. If someone turned up at my doorstep with a ball under their arm I know I’d rather go down to the park to play soccer than football.

    Sufiyo, I guess I used up my energy spurt on the footy facsimile and then had none left to mimic soccer. D’oh!

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