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As far as threads go on WOOF, this is pretty lightweight and trivial...but I just gotta tell ya.
I relocated to the UK six months ago (just as the Aussies were being thumped by the Poms in the Ashes). I'm loving London, but miss the footy and my beloved Doggies, no doubt. Anyway, I popped into the gym on High Holborn after work today and...across a crowded room...just near the free weights...there I saw it. I rubbed my eyes - I am a bit myopic - but there was no mistaking it. There before me was a guy wearing a Western Bulldogs footy jumper. I'm not usually one to approach random people to strike up conversations, but I found my legs...almost involuntarily...carrying me towards this image at the speed of light.
Gushingly, I tapped him on the shoulder and craned my neck around to get a good look at the front of the jersey. I think he thought that I was checking him out. "Scuse me mate, where did you get that jumper?" Turns out he was an Irish lad who had a gap year in Oz and a mate had bought him the jumper as a gift. "That's my footy team," I exclaimed...with all the pride and gravitas of a prime ministerial victory speech. We talked gaelic football and hurling, shook hands and parted ways. I was a bit sorry that I hadn't actually stumbled upon the Holy Grail...and ex-pat Doggy...but it made my day nonetheless. Perhaps I should get out more?
Anyone else experience a similar moment in a far-flung place, or am I Robinson Crusoe?
I relocated to the UK six months ago (just as the Aussies were being thumped by the Poms in the Ashes). I'm loving London, but miss the footy and my beloved Doggies, no doubt. Anyway, I popped into the gym on High Holborn after work today and...across a crowded room...just near the free weights...there I saw it. I rubbed my eyes - I am a bit myopic - but there was no mistaking it. There before me was a guy wearing a Western Bulldogs footy jumper. I'm not usually one to approach random people to strike up conversations, but I found my legs...almost involuntarily...carrying me towards this image at the speed of light.
Gushingly, I tapped him on the shoulder and craned my neck around to get a good look at the front of the jersey. I think he thought that I was checking him out. "Scuse me mate, where did you get that jumper?" Turns out he was an Irish lad who had a gap year in Oz and a mate had bought him the jumper as a gift. "That's my footy team," I exclaimed...with all the pride and gravitas of a prime ministerial victory speech. We talked gaelic football and hurling, shook hands and parted ways. I was a bit sorry that I hadn't actually stumbled upon the Holy Grail...and ex-pat Doggy...but it made my day nonetheless. Perhaps I should get out more?
Anyone else experience a similar moment in a far-flung place, or am I Robinson Crusoe?
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