I did the most “jantan” thing today. I watched a World Cup game between Japan and Australia. And not at home too mind you. I watched it at Bestari in Sri Hartamas on a big screen with a whole bunch of strangers and made the manly “Ooohs” and “Aaaaaahs” at the same time with my fellow countrymen. I never felt closer to this brotherhood of manly love.
I wanted to see what the big deal was. And I did it at Bestari because I don’t have the sports channels on my Astro box. I don’t care for these things. Truth be told. I think watching sports is a complete waste of time unless there is something in it for you. So Australia won. I didn’t get anything out of it. Life goes on.
Having expelled all that negativity from this experience, I did make several observations. Firstly, watching grown men kick a little ball around can be entertaining. It’s like watching a movie you like that you’ve already seen. You start that movie and you get sucked into it even if you know the ending. The whole experience is of no consequence except you losing 105 minutes of your life that you will never get back.
And you know it is entertaining; almost hypnotic, when you sit and stare at the screen watching men in shorts kick a ball around. Then you realise your fingers are digging into your flesh. You haven’t moved and there’s a crick in your neck. And forty minutes has gone by. Forty precious minutes! Makes me want to smack Kenny Sia in the face. That’s what football does to ya!