It is Sunday night at 11:24. I am waiting for the popcorn to finish (on the stove.. it takes a bit longer but is definitely the way to go!) before I drive to my friend’s house, maybe the most knowledgeable Englishman I know at the great sport that is American Football.
It is also nearly 11:30pm and the game has started and I don’t even know which teams are in the Superbowl tonight.
My cousins will be hating me. Brittney down in Somerset, my wonderful American friend who has kept more of her traditions than I have will gasp.. but it’s true.
I am a terrible expat!
I have not seen a Superbowl in more years than I can remember. (Is it 3 or 4 now?) I don’t remember the last one I stayed up and finished. Maybe my first year in Newcastle 6 years ago?
But I understand the game for the most part. I am ignoring all the British banter at how it is not a sport, or not “football” because you don’t use your feet. And when I am missing something, there is always Mark my honourary American (English) friend who we should just give him a passport for all of his study and effort. Kinda like those people who get honourary university degrees.