Red, white and blue

Unsplash - Rob White

I spent hours watching World Cup football with my dad before I understood the game.

I cannot remember who was playing. I cannot remember the score. I just remember him leaning towards the TV.

That was enough.

Every four years, the World Cup arrived in our Indian home and quietly rearranged the room. People who had barely mentioned football for months suddenly had opinions. The TV stayed on. Someone always knew who should have started, who had been fouled or which referee had got it wrong.

Years later, my family created a fantasy football league. Teams were drafted. Predictions made. Rivalries travelled effortlessly between cities, countries and generations.

Only now, the room stretched across continents.

England entered my life through work.

More than twenty years later, it is where my daughter was born. Somewhere along the way, its rhythms became mine.

France arrived differently.

Through marriage. Through family. Through lunches that become dinners because nobody has quite finished talking. My French family have a habit of discussing the next meal while still eating the current one.

When the World Cup began, all three parts of my life were watching together.

In England, pubs stayed open later. Some schools allowed children to arrive late after evening matches.

In France, football slipped naturally into conversations about food.

In India, another message appeared in the fantasy football group.

Three countries. Three different ways of paying attention.

Then France lost. The next morning I wore blue.

A few days later England lost. I reached for white.

For a while, the conversation sounded familiar.

The manager. The substitutions. The tactics.

Spain and Argentina will play the final. I'll be watching. Only one team will lift the trophy.

I still cannot remember the score from those matches I watched with my dad. I do remember him leaning towards the TV.

On Sunday, I'll wear someone else's colours. I still won't remember the score.

I'll remember leaning towards the TV.