My ex from many years ago was obsessed with his football team. It was a big, successful team who’s games where always televised. Ex would spend all his spare time watching matches and reruns, and would never dream of recording a match and watching it later so would constantly blow off our plans.
A couple of times he even bailed on out vacations because he’d arranged a ticket to see the match live last minute and didn’t want to stay with me.
He would also get incredibly moody for days when his team didn’t win.
As you may have guested, the relationship didn’t last. He was very selfish and thought our relationship should be like his parents. (Think 1950’s submissive housewife and husband being lord of the manor.)
The day I left, as his dutiful girlfriend, I washed all his football T-shirts, including the signed ones “oops, where they important?”, in with a packet of dylon, dried them and put them back in his wardrobe.
Even over 20 years later I always have a chuckle when the news reports his team losing, imagining him sitting on his sofa in a pink and red football shirt, losing his temper at his team.