English football fans have no idea how lucky they are. It seems like there’s always a football match happening, somewhere in the world. I’ve even managed to get a little bit excited recently, as one of my local teams have taken on the role of David in a Cinderalla cup run.
Mixing my metaphors there, because I am not a football fan. I am a cricket fan and therefore, during this World Cup, I am trying to operate simultaneously on Australian and English times. Last night I stayed up until 3am, until England suffered their second collapse, and then I went to bed. Within about fifteen minutes of me shutting my eyes, it seemed, we’d basically lost, and all that was left was the very easy run chase for hosts New Zealand.
The things we do for our sports. Being a fan has more challenges than just the disappointment of seeing them lose. I struggle with depression, and it’s made worse by winter and not getting enough sleep. As a cricket fan, winter means that the games I want to follow are on the far side of the world, so I stay up too late watching my boys struggle through, or watching the rather splendid women do significantly better. I wanted to sleep today, but I had writing group in the morning. If I’d been able to sleep in, I may be functioning by now, but instead I’m spewing words at the screen and hoping they make sense, whilst my tea makes barely a dent in my levels of incomprehension.