In The Club....

Who would Jesus be?

So, I joined a football club. Something which will no doubt amuse those that are aware my general total lack of familiarity with the beautiful game in any way whatsoever.

Everyone here is something to the world of the round ball. Its almost like you have to be. Everybody is either Flamengo or Botafogo or Santos or something quite hard to pronounce. This identity transcends class, race or gender, and takes on an importance on a par with remembering your wedding anniversary (unfortunately this is also something that can confuse me)

So when they ask me and I don't know what I am, they kindly immediately initiate me into their baying gang on the spot. For this I am supposed to feel a warm sense of pride and belonging.

Anyhow - we joined Fluminense club in Laranjeiras because we needed somewhere to go in our spare time where our little bloke could cut loose with a marginally reduced chance of getting run over or falling off something. I just got back from a swimming and dossing around in the play area marathon, followed by a meal for both of us for R$14.50 and an inevitable couple of cold Skols. Now this friends, could turn the hardiest of footy agnostics.

What is more, I am confused and dismayed that our little man is showing some considerable interest in the bloody sport too, so in order to avoid an accusation of being  negligent parents, we will probably sign him up for lessons when he turns three in August.

Who would have thought it?