Gabriella Angotti-Jones/The New York Times
LONDON — In theory at least, we understand the words on the sports radio we hear incessantly — in taxis, at the fish and chips place, at the corner newsstand. But we are foreigners here and the stories are inscrutable, full of happenings from cricket ovals and rugby pitches.
Our sports focus is confined to our darkened living room, where my 7-year-old son, Leo, and I have lately been absorbing improbable happenings from the other side of the Atlantic — one exhilarating victory after another for our suddenly mighty Brooklyn Nets.
This has become our early-morning ritual.