Discovered watching sports, by yourself, in mid-afternoon, is close to being caught masturbating.
It’s kind of sad, though we all have done it and do it. Especially us exiles.
Still, you feel like a bit of a loser.
A bit like being a Sunderland supporter some days, I suppose.
So, after the second goal went in against Norwich, I retreated to the message board.
I missed seeing Richardson’s consolation goal, but it was a decent bargain. I’d rather be among people who cared than sitting alone on the couch.
Many exiles, I suspect, will understand where I am coming from.
Here we are, on a Monday afternoon in Western Canada, we’re two down and I abandon ship. At least from the TV – big screen HD and all..
Because I know we won’t come back. I’ve played enough football, long ago, and watched this team through as many games as needed to know that’s not going to happen.
But I don’t go and cut the grass or even go to the pub. No, instead I anxiously log on to the SMB and wallow in the misery: the Bruce anger, the Elmo jokes and the Richardson wonderment (after all these years some people are still surprised?).
Because I need to be among people who feel the same as I do.
They may think Steve Bruce deserves time, they may feel Sess is a striker, they may feel we’re doomed already and the Fat Geordie should go.
It doesn’t matter that much.
We all have different opinions.
(Except for one. Why don’t we have a left side after so many years?)
I digress. Sorry. Just an opinion – it’s only an hour after the shambles.
So what, we have different opinions. But what I needed and what, I suspect, other exiles needed, was the connection.
To wallow in the frustration, the anger, the hope and the despair. To share it, more importantly. Not with our wives or children, who nod their collective heads, before shaking them when we aren’t looking.
Such a true connection means much more than watching a game on TV. That is just an event, and, truth be told, not really a world-shattering one at that.
Hell, I can watch sports: NHL, NFL, NBA, CFL, until the initials turn me blind.
We need to belong. To feel we belong.
And if getting beat by a Norwich team, which at least realized that getting to the byline and cutting it back is a bona fide dangerous move, is the only game in town as far as that emotion goes, well, then so be it. We take what is served up.
So, I’ve decided, When it comes to supporting Sunderland misery indeed needs company.
It’s the link for all those in different time zones, different worlds from the one back in Sunderland or, God bless them all who made that trip, in Norwich.
It isn’t Sky or Setanta.
It’s just us.
(Our Canadian Correspondent)