I had a TGIF drink with some colleagues after work at Sporting, except that it is Wednesday, but tomorrow it’s the birthday of prophet Mohammed, and so I’m off.
Two of the colleagues basically ‘grew up’ in Sporting. One of them met her husband there. My hubbie was a Sporting old-timer. There must be a whole generation of old West-Beirut who grew up with/in Sporting.
And while we saw the sun set, we discussed people we knew, and who had been a ‘Sporting regular’ and noticed how this part of time is somehow all interconnected with each other; Everyone knows somebody who knows somebody here. She was married to him, and he dated so-and-so, who used to date this girl, and that girl got married to this guy, whose sister was going to marry this man who then married that girl, while she hooked with so-and-so but his ex-wife then married so-and-so and on and on it went. There’s a village-like quality to this town, and it makes it quite pleasant.
I wonder how many of my Lebanese readers are Sporting regulars.