Ouch - That Hurts

One of the things us retired folks have to deal with is an excess of spare time. Over the last few days, I've been whiling away the hours by watching the World Cup. As an American, I am appropriately befuddled by much of the strategy and tactics associated with a futbol match.

However, one thing I have noticed is the Oscar-level acting abilities of the players. A little bump, a small brush, and the 'impacted' players drops like he's been shot by a .50 caliber Barrett.

The poor crippled player grabs a body part - usually a lower leg - and then either rolls around on the ground dramatically or else lays there unmoving. In either case, after a few seconds the 'victim' of the brutal assault will crack open an eye and glance at the referee to see if that fool bought the act.

Most of the time the answer is 'no.' At that point the afflicted player rises Lazarus-like and springs to his feet, miraculously regaining his previous physical abilities.

Reminds me of a dog I used to have. She would occasionally run away from me when I took her for a long, off-leash walk in the country. Once she was finally convinced that I was serious about getting her to come back ("Josey, get your worthless ass back here before I get REALLY mad...!") she would meander back towards me and then start limping.

She learned that lesson early on in our relationship, when she once stepped on a grass burr and got a load of sympathy and petting from me. From that point on, any time I would scold her, she limped.

Just another female who wrapped me around her little finger...