About men who watch sports

‘Saturday I really can't.’ Beloved looks at me with an incredible you-know-what-look. But I really don't know. ‘Then I have training.’ I think for a moment. Training, training. Of course, dear one goes to the gym a few times a week, but training… I think I missed something. ‘Duh, training. Max Verstappen? Hellooo?’

Ah okay, Max Verstappen's training. I get it. Serious business. I think it's okay that Sunday afternoon is reserved for the race. I've been with a Formula 1 fan for seventeen years and I really understand that when the phenomenon Max Verstappen suddenly appears, you want to see everything about it. But that training and the importance of watching it… I had missed that for a moment. Because between training and race, there is also a day of qualification.

He sits on the couch with a seriousness and dedication as if he is Christian Horner himself. That makes me Geri Halliwell by the way, and I find that quite nice.

Anyway, that was the phenomenon of Formula 1. Then there is football. ‘We’ are for Ajax and for AS Roma and so ‘we’ watch all the matches of these clubs, but of course also all Champions League matches, everything with the Dutch national team, and all derbies because they are just filthy and exciting. Then there are of course the highlights (and don't be as dumb as I am to suggest that ‘we’ have already seen that match this afternoon) and the post-match analysis. Because we haven't talked enough yet, we get Johan Derksen and his crew on Monday as a dessert.

And when I finally sit down to Netflix, I get this comment.

But I like to complain, but secretly find it incredibly cozy and entertaining. Although I am really overjoyed that he skips the Tour de France and the tennis tournaments.