Cats, cider and the beautiful game

It's a tradition during the ENGLISH FOOTBALL season, which began in earnest today.

I listen to some British radio online, hearing the pundits size up the day's matches.

Then, as kickoff approaches, I grab a handful of well-read soccer books and spread out on the floor in front of the television -- ready for the action.

The books aren't really for reading. Rather, they provide a small platform for our cat LORELEI to pounce upon -- trying her hardest to obscure my view of the match.

By halftime, if I am lucky, two things occur.

1. Lorelei decides she's too tired to continue pestering me and begins a lengthy nap on the couch.

2. I grab an ice cold CIDER.

I know, I know... because of the time difference it's actually morning on this side of the pond.

I'm spiritually over *there,* though, so it really is a decent-enough time for a pint, innit?

Today we watched as my boyhood club WEST BROMWICH ALBION defeated LIVERPOOL, 3-0.

I love soccer. And the cider tasted great.