Apart from feelings of bitterness, hurt, disappointment and anger at Manchester United’s meek surrender of their Champions League crown, the other thing which was going through my head was “How will the next three months pass?” No football on weekends mean that the television for the next 80-odd days is a mere show piece for me than anything else.

I have never been fond of odd-number years, which is ironic since I was born in one and got married in one as well. But no international football tournaments mean that you are left twiddling your thumbs and waiting eagerly for the next season to start.

Which in-turn means, that I can’t say no to any of my wife’s humble demands (like a movie or dinner, and on very rare occasions a trip to some shopping mall). Neither can I say no to any social engagements as my wife after saying no to most of the weekend get-togethers for the rest of the year wants to make up for the lost time.

Summer, in even-numbered years, are much more fun since there is always an international tournament on every two years. If not the World Cup, then the European Championships are always there to fill the void.

Of course, apart from football, there is tennis to look forward to. French Open is already mid-way and without tempting fate, I think Roger Federer might just win the one that has eluded him so far. And very soon, Wimbledon shall be here as well and the voice in my head keeps on saying that Federer would avenge last year’s defeat. Though I harboured the same hope for the French Open as well, but even that voice had a hearty laugh at the thought and asked me to stop daydreaming. This was till,  Rafael Nadal was still in the fray. That voice, surprisingly has gone quiet, even since Nadal was knocked out.

The T20 cricket World Cup starts next week as well but since I have a passing interest in T20, don’t think will watch any of it. Though the papers, TV channels, will come out all guns blazing to make it sound as if it is the biggest sporting extravaganza of the year. Speaking of cricket, even the Ashes, this time around, have failed to arouse much interest. The Australian team looks like a shadow its’ old self and England, in my opinion, will flatter to deceive yet again.

And on top off it, the on-going stand-off between multiplexes and movie producers mean that one can’t even go out to catch a movie as well. See, I told you, there is something about odd-numbered years that make sure that summer is longer than usual. Is it just me, or the weather is terrible this time around compared to last year?