Today someone whom I have spoken with about football in an earlier life asked me: "Have you seen that Real Madrid is down 0-3?"
"Who are they playing?" I asked earnestly.
He laughed, thinking that I was joking, and after a moment of hesitation I said something brilliant: "Well, they ain't been playing well since Ronaldo left".
He smiled and replied that indeed, this was not the same Madrid as last season.
I don't think he ever realized that I could care less, and that I have in fact not looked at the standings of any league since last year.
But I was curious: I see that Barcelona defeated Real Madrid to make it to the Copa de Rey Final, and that the Catalans are also leading the League nine points ahead of Real Madrid on third place (one behind Atletico Madrid).
Now, did this curiosity awake any desire to again take up the old passion that meant so much to me? Nope. As I looked at the table I was reminded of all the insults, abuses, excuses, reprimands, blame-games, schadenfreude and outright hate springing out from these results.
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