He ignored me for a while, mumbled under his breath a little and continued watching the footy. Well, I think he was actually watching the tall, fit and lean players in their tight shorts and sleeveless shirts because his head tilted. There might have been drool. “You know,” he said lightly. “This game ain’t all bad.” I hid my smile with a sip of beer. “Told you it was better than gridiron.”
