|(Left to right) Yalda, Joe, Jake and Will helping us claim seats for the game. We arrived an hour early and it was starting to crowd already|
TAPAS. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?! Buy one drink, get one free tapa. Best. Business Model. Ever. ME ENCANTA.
|Me con mis chicas Markisha and Yalda.|
|Joe being forced to take yet another picture of the chicas: (Left to Right) Markisha, Ela, Yalda, Me, Lyna, Ashley and Melanie. Una grupa muy bonita, si? <3|
Back home, I've always loved watching sports with my dad or with my friends. My favorite thing to watch is a tie between Olympic swimming and the NBA finals season. It's always fun because you pick a team that you want to root for, and then you cheer them on like your life depends on them winning (which it does). Honestly, I don't follow sports religiously because school gets in the way. So during finals time I tend to just pick from the teams who are in who I like most, and cheer for them from there.
As a sports watcher (and perhaps, as a person in general...), I don't know what word describes me better than psychopath. If you observed me watching a sports game, I absolutely guarantee you will notice the following:
-Intense Arm Flailing
-Nonstop Flow Of Cursing
-Possible Water Bottle Throwing
-The Sound A Mother Bear Makes When She Loses Her Child
But see, here? I am one of the guys. I am considered NORMAL. While we were watching the game, everyone sounds like a mother bear who just lost her child. It is a magical experience to watch futbol with the spaniards. You have fans, and then you have Spanish fans. There is a collective spirit that is so tangible, its electrifying and contagious. You can feel it in the bar like its a different type of air that everyone is breathing in. Passion isn't even enough to describe how these people feel about futbol. Perhaps my spanish teacher said it best, it's a religion here. A religion that lets you scream and shout and drink beers nonstop. Sign me up for conversion por favor!!