The F word I'm not allowed not to talk about

I'm avoiding the news this morning. Every other item is about England's defeat by Argentina in last night's World Cup semi final. This is a big event in the nation's psyche and will be top of mind for many millions of people in this country and Argentina.

I couldn't care less.

No; I didn't watch it.

The problem I have is that no one believes me. No one believes that I don't watch football. No one believes that I don't want to watch it or any other sport.

My son came round last night to watch the match with my wife. Afterwards they were telling me about some player or other that I had never heard of then and can't remember this morning. Oh but you have heard of him (no, I haven't). Everyone's heard of [insert whatever his name is here].

Again, no, I haven't.

Last weekend we were in a coffee shop and bumped into some people from the neighbouring village my wife knows. Inevitably and predictably the man brings up the F word. Having said that I had no interest in it, of course, he spent the next half an hour telling me about his time as a Millwall fan.

Last night, we had a hard time getting our granddaughter to sleep. Eventually, while the match was on, I was relieved to be able to take the dog for a walk. One of the many privileges I have is that we live in the countryside so walking the dog means walking around the arable fields that surround our house. I expected to see no one as, surely, everyone who wants to watch England in the World Cup semi final - which is most people - is watching it.

I was slightly surprised to bump into friends from the neighbouring village that I do know.

"Not watching the football then?"

AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH

No I'm not watching the fucking football. I hate, hate, hate football.

(It was a good-humoured exchange but I do need to apologise to them).

Not liking football is not allowed. I must be mistaken. I must just be saying it. I can't possibly mean it. It only happens every four years (no, people drone on about football every single day; it never stops).

And that's the nub of it. It's the requirement to like it that makes me hate it so much. I resent the fact that the F word is utterly inescapable.