The first time I ever turned on the television to watch women play professional football (soccer) was two years ago. I was straight away revolted. Five minutes into the game and I couldn’t take anymore. Nothing possibly could be this awful!
I didn’t have a problem with the manner in which they played or how they looked. No, I didn’t have a problem with that at all. But someone did! My little green friend called Jealousy. That friend of mine who, was until the present, in hiding. Jealousy had a big problem alright, and she was one hell of a persuasive friend!
She whispered hate filled words in my ears. She brought tears to my eyes. Such a monster! She said to me “Look at them; They have everything you don’t have. They’ve achieved everything you wanted to achieve. They’ve stolen your life. Each and everyone on that field. Take a look!”
“Yeah,” I said loudly. “I hate this nonsense. They can’t even play.” But the reality was, I hadn’t seen them play long enough to make a judgement. 30 minutes doesn’t count if you weren’t paying attention. Distracted because you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
You hate them.
...No I don’t, I don’t have a reason to.
Lies! They stole your life!
...No they didn’t, they build their individual lives.
You’re a loser and it’s their fault!
...There’s only me to hold responsible, if I’m a loser.
But you hate them.
...OK, maybe just a tiny amount!
Everyone gets envious at times, my cousin is jealous of Angelina Jolie. This is something that she reminds me quite frequently. Even my cat, I’m positive is 'green-eyed' thanks to the pretty kitty downstairs with the pink ears and white fur.
Me, I’m not just jealous of one person. I’m envious of every single person who played in the FIFA Women’s World Cup. That includes the referee’s! I’m so jealous of them, I can admit to wishing the earth beneath them caved in when they were playing. I look at them in their appealing, original, made for them designer jersey’s and think...lucky #%$@#£.”
U.A.E, has a national women’s team but I’m not authorized to play for them because I’m not “Emirati...” Great!
India and Portugal both too have women’s football teams, but I’m not a resident. Even better!
All my life I’ve been hanging in between. It never mattered. 18 years of not caring about that, and now it’s coming to haunt me. If only I believed in re-incarnation. I would run in the face of a speeding car and plead that I came back the next time as the star Brazilian player, Marta.
With my luck, I'll almost certainly end up on a wheel chair. Just perfect.
And then I won’t hate Women’s football at all.
No I won’t! [Last three words said with a tone dripping in sarcasm.]