Football has never been a god-given talent for me. You see, I can't get the offside rule, can't remember names or teams or premierships or leagues and I spend half the game bugging Lionel with "What happened?" to which I'll get back a snappy "Watch lah!" or else a good case of the ignoramus.
Anyway, yesterday Lionel decided that the footballers on the screen were just too small for his liking... no, not really... so we trundled up the Victoria line to Seven Sisters together with Lu and Khairiah. I was feeling really hyped. Tottenham Hotspurs vs. West Brom. My second live football match is something to be proud of! (I was also feeling hyped because Lu gave me his last piece of sushi and carbs really perk me up! I'm a fun tong (rice pot)... it explains the thunder thighs!)
Me and my rarely worn Spurs cap had to fight the wind to make it to White Hart Lane, but once I got there, I swear the deafening roars would have swept my cap off faster than the wind. We had bets on the game being extremely exciting, only because West Brom was desperate not to be kicked out. And it really was a heart clenching first half with 1-0 to West Brom and I thought the guy beside me was about to collapse from a burst artery as he hurled abuses at West Brom and continuously coached the Spurs players from the upper east stands.
Nevertheless as exciting as it was, I had to entertain myself by giving the Korean Spurs striker YP Lee several names. In the first half he was Kim Jong Il. Towards half time he became Pak My Kha and finally he was christened Ginseng Boy! Lionel was quite amused that I was amusing myself, but I sure wasn't done with names. The moment West Brom substituted with a Japanese guy - Sushi Boy was born!
During half time, things became even more complicated - 
I had to find a ladies toilet amongst the masses of testosterone. Not only did I have to try and spot a female sign, I had to push my way through several beefy, beer guzzling, white men. Not exactly my dream situation. If it were, they would all be Ewan McGregor. Upon realising I was clearly the minority, I spent the second half of the game amusing myself by yelling out to the players in Cantonese and Malay. Mr Excitable next to me wasn't to be outdone and proceeded to jump off his seat and waved his fist threateningly to the players who were decidedly ignoring him.
Luckily Tottenham decided to score in the second half with an extremely tension filled penalty goal which saved Mr Excitable from an early death.
The verdict? I like football matches, only when I get to make a nuisance of the players and give the Asian ones funny names.
Me, Lionel, Lu and Khairiah - happy that we made it worth our money (10 quid a goal!)
Lionel and me with my Spurs cap. Girls like me don't take sides. You just love the team they love. 
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