Oh God. My wife’s decided she likes sport now

‘IBy the end I was praying for it all to be over, just so that I didn’t have to do any more mansplaining

’m proud of you, my boys,” my wife sniffed, as she watched the touching scenes of England’s defeated footballers consoling each other after Sunday’s defeat. Meanwhile I bit the cushion, pretending to be overwhelmed by the drama of the Euro 2020 final, but secretly cringeing at her behaviour.

Just six weeks previously she was full of disdain for the national game. Football, according to her, was a pointless exercise in rowdy tribalism and a game for lager swilling yobs. Yet here she was, chardonnay in hand, consoling the national team while pretending to understand the intricacies of what had unfolded in front of her.

Having only started watching at the quarter-final stage, she was now blindly commentating on an event she hardly understood.

“Foul!” she had remonstrated at every legitimate tackle by the Italians.

“Go on Harry!” she cried, as Raheem Sterling made a rare foray forward.

“Is Maguire the captain?” she asked at half time.

“No, he’s Manchester United’s captain,” I answered.

“But didn’t Manchester United go out in the group stage?”

I sighed.

As a lifelong football fan, I should have been pleased she was finally interested in the sport. On occasion over the years I had attempted to entice her to a game, assuring her she would be engrossed in the drama. My invites were always met with snobbery: “It’s a game for louts.”

Consequently, there was something galling about her embrace of a sport she’d formerly abhorred. And her clumsy attempts at armchair punditry were nothing short of embarrassing.

I was initially surprised by her Damascene conversion and by the end of the tournament I was praying for it all to be over, just so that I didn’t have to do any more mansplaining.

Before Sunday evening’s game, the only time we had ever watched a sporting event together was several years previously when we were lucky enough to have been invited to a Six Nations rugby match at Twickenham. On that occasion she spent the first 10 minutes cheering for France, before I gently pointed out that England were in the white kit.

Her aversion to sport is not confined to football. On Sunday afternoon before the England game I tried to entice her to watch the Wimbledon men’s singles final. She questioned how anyone could spend hours watching what she deemed one of the world’s most “boring” pastimes. Instead, she switched the TV over to watch a re-run of Dinner Date.

Perhaps the most irritating aspect of her 11th-hour embrace of the England football journey was her reaction on Monday following the defeat. She took the morning off work because she felt so deflated.

I know I sound mean-spirited. I should embrace and encourage her newfound admiration for the national team and her interest in football. But I can’t help being irked because, to paraphrase the song, true England fans have suffered decades of hurt. My wife came late to the party and hasn’t earned her despondency.

However, if there is one lesson I should take from the tournament it is that I should focus on the positives. If someone had told me two months ago that I’d be watching a full game of football with my wife, plus extra time and penalties, and that she’d be engrossed in it, I would have been overjoyed. So now I hope it will lead to a wider interest in sport in general that we can share.

Who knows? The Olympics are just around the corner. With 35 sports included, I may have to do a lot of explaining. It could be a long summer.