It's soccer season. Hurray.

No, the title of this post isn't lacking a final exclamation point.
It's actually depicting the odd situation that I'm in right now.

Kzanderallia is soccer nation. People live and die for soccer. Literally.
They go to the stadiums, they see the games on television, they read about them.
Folks with money go to expensive clubs to play their own matches, while the financially challenged play on the street. Young or old, EVERYBODY loves the game.

BUT...

I'm not one of them.

I don't like soccer, in fact, I don't like sports in general. I don't like to play 'em, and even less, to watch them on the tube. When I'm at the gym, I cling to the only TV set that isn't tuned to ESPN.

I see the people cheering and screaming at the tube, and ask myself, "Is there something wrong with me??? Why can't I interest myself on this sport?? So many people like it, why can't I???" I know I could try to learn about the game, the history, the players. I could even learn to play if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

I have no idea why I'm like this, but it can sure make you feel alien amongst your compatriots. Specially now, that the EuroCup is playing. It's everywhere. At work, on the papers, on the news. When I get home, my dad and my sisters talk about the day's game. Portugal is in, France is out!! OMIGOD!!!

And I'm thinking, "SO WHAT? Why is the fate of a soccer team relevant?? I mean, they're Europeans, for Gosh's sake. They all live in another friggin' continent! It's not like you know any of these people, or that your life is gonna improve somehow by their triumph or defeat."

But, of course, none of this is ever said. I just let them have their little soccer frenzy while I go up to my room, lock the door and perform more relevant tasks, like writing in my blog.

I can't wait for the EuroCup to end. Then I'll finally have my family back.
For a while, at least.