Sport is Sport
Sport is sport, even if you don’t quite understand all the rules of some games, it can still be terrific fun. I love sport. Watching (or even better, participating in) any sports fixture is a great way to relax from the stresses of everyday living and, if you get involved in the ultimate outcome, to release some of those endorphins which make us feel so good about ourselves. Yesterday was an excellent example. The American football Super Bowl! A day when much of life in USA comes to a halt – although I did see some posts on my Facebook from people sick of all the hype, so as with all things, love of football is not universal.
I probably wouldnt be writing this if “my” team hadn’t won. I have to admit I have no idea who won the SuperBowl for the last eleven years. Now twelve years ago we were right in the middle of the fever in Maryland and quickly discovered New Zealand All Blacks supporters are very quiet in their support of our national rugby team. I’m not aware of people here painting their houses, or their cars, or anything much else in the colours of their team. Flags adorn, our choice of clothing might suddenly take on (in our case) a black tinge but seeing the purple haze around Maryland was sure an eye-opener. I can only imagine what Baltimore looked like when the Ravens got back home today with the Lombard trophy. I bet it was a beautiful site.
While this level of professional sport is exciting and adrenalin pumping, equal excitement can be found standing on the sidelines of our children’s/grandchildren’s junior teams of whatever sport interests them. My children are no longer involved in sporting teams and I miss the years of watching and cheering at netball, hockey, soccer, rugby or basketball clashes. I’m patiently waiting until my grandchildren are a little older before the cycle can start all over again as they search for whichever sport they enjoy the most,
I bet you’re wondering why a writer of romance books would be going on about sport on her website? Well, I do enjoy most sports and I admit to being addicted to rugby. I trust my interest in sport will be seen by my grandchildren as an incentive to participate in some physical activity as they grow. That really is my reason. There is no truth in the rumour that watching all those hunky men running around in tight little shorts (thankfully rugby players don’t cover up too much) does anything for me! Although what better inspiration would I want to find for characters in a romance novel than finely tuned sports people, both male and female? They will always fit the mould as my heroes and heroines, much more so than any billionaire businessman.