They say you enjoy a second childhood at a certain age.
I’m middle aged now and have yet to bungee jump from a high structure or buy a Porsche or Ferrari.
While I don’t feel like I’ve experienced a mid-life crisis in the true sense, I have reverted to a childlike state over the last few months.
There’s my ongoing obsession with American Football video game Madden 2018.
Now, I’ve been a fan of the Chicago Bears for over 30 years, but – whether it’s waiting for the new NFL season to start or some other reason – I’ve become hooked on the online pursuit of building up the best possible squad in the Madden Ultimate Team mode.
This requires hours upon hours of playing to horde wee Madden coins to purchase the best possible players – and boy do they cost a bomb.
Then you play against people who have spent actual cash – which I refuse to do as a matter of principal and financial issues – building up a roster of pure monsters and get thrashed by ten or more touchdowns.
What keeps me coming back though is the feeling you get when you occasionally defeat these money men and see their top heavy, cash enhanced team take a hit.
Talking about taking a hit – here’s my other childish trait which has become a worry.
My wee boy has started hitting me whenever we drive together and happen to see a yellow car.
“Yellow car,” he shouts, as he wallops my arm and scans the horizon for more yellow vehicles.
That’s bad enough, but now I actually hit myself whenever I’m driving alone and see a yellow car.
It’s been a bruising second childhood for me.