Textcerpts: Soccer

I’ll admit it: I’m caught up in the USA World Cup craze. I got caught up in it last time around, and I have no shame. NO SHAME!



Grant Park viewing party in Chicago – how UNAMERICAN! (via csnchicago.com)

I find myself tapping the “I BELIEVE THAT WE WILL WIN!” rhythm to myself when I’m thinking. If someone leaves a long enough pause after they say the word “I”, I will immediately scream “BELIEVE”, whether they intended that space to be filled with that word or not. I love it, and I love that the country is caught up in it.

Even if you don’t like the sport itself, the excitement is contagious.

And that excitement is why the column Ann Coulter posted (I refuse to link to her actual article) about how liking soccer is a sign of the country’s moral degrade (what ISN’T a sign of it, is what I want to know) is SO hilarious to me.

My favorite quote? (Though there are SO MANY to choose from…)

“I promise you: No American whose great-grandfather was born here is watching soccer,” she wrote. “One can only hope that, in addition to learning English, these new Americans will drop their soccer fetish with time.”

Now, having had great-grandparents who did, in fact, emigrate from other places, I guess I’m part of the non-English-speaking morally-degraded populace to whom she refers. The fact that some of my great-grandparents emigrated from England doesn’t change the fact that they, and I, need to learn English, apparently. We’re commie infiltrators, and there just isn’t anything we can do about it. I get it, Ann.

However, my husband’s family has been in America since, literally, the 1600s. On both sides. His family has been farming in southern Virginia since that time, pretty much, up until his parents. My husband played soccer in high school, and actually does watch games on our extra subscription to the Fox Soccer channel, in addition to keeping up with rugby. According to Ann Coulter, though, he can’t exist. HE CAN’T EXIST.

Even though it’s my husband’s birthday today, I immediately decided that this charade of his existence needed to end now. Who is this “husband” I married? Is our marriage even legal? I immediately texted him with my concern.

And so begins a new segment on this blog I’d like to title “Textcerpts”, mostly because the conversations TLH and I have are absurd. And it’s part of why I think we work so well together.

Without further ado, the first textcerpt. I title this one: Soccer.

textcerpt soccer conversation

I love my husband. Happy birthday, traitor.


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