"I don't know about you, but on these nights my man is like a zombie. Seated on the sofa in clothes that would embarrass a homeless person, remote in hand, legs outstretched, pizza on the coffee table, enough beer in the fridge to supply a regiment of paratroopers, looking haggard, he is fascinated by the small screen. From time to time, he lets out a rumbling noise or hurls insults at God knows who. (At least he is not stupid enough to think that the referee can hear him. The match is happening in Manchester!)."
This unflattering portrait was taken from Onze nouvelles à lire seule, les soirs de match de foot (Eleven Short Stories to Read While Alone on Football Nights), by Emmanuelle Poigner at Pocket Editions.
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