Help! I live with football and cricket addicts

The bambino's grandpa was away for a few days which meant that I had the TV to myself and I could switch it off when I felt like it. It was blissful to catch up on a couple of episodes of Heroes that I'd recorded (or as Americans say Tivo'd) and I was able to wean the bambino off her mounting addiction to cricket and football. He returned last night and practically sprinted into the sitting room to put the football on in preparation for the Man United game that was starting an hour later.

"It doesn't start for an hour dad..." the boyf said with a grin.
"Are you sure?" his dad said with a look of fear.
"Yes dad...I have been watching Wednesday night football for years..." His dad still looked suspicious.

Just as I was thinking that I'd creep upstairs and watch Hollyoaks (you KNOW I love that show!), the boyf legged it upstairs and turned on the cricket! The bambino who had woken up from a mystery early evening nap was quickly grabbed by the boyf before his dad got to her (I see his competitive spirit is coming out...) and a few minutes later I popped upstairs to stake my claim on the TV. The bambino was looking very cosy on her dads lap as he cuddled and chatted to her whilst watching the cricket. "Hello cheeky face" I beamed at her. She looked at me like I was disturbing her and then she went back to focusing on the cricket. I stomped back downstairs to finish the dinner and wondered how I'd ended up with a house full of sports addicts.

"It's 7.42...." his dad announced.
"Jeez...the game starts at 7.45" the boyf laughed.

Moments later they were both engrossed in the game and speaking to either one of them was a waste of time. Whilst I fed the bambino I had to listen to them doing their own running commentary and the boyf airing his frustrations.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you both sound?!"
They both laughed and the boyf started explaining why he was annoyed about the game and I felt my mind go blank and it was a Homer Simpson moment of "Bla bla bla bla..." replacing his speech.

My ma turned up for one of her 'surprise' visits about twenty minutes into the match. I couldn't help but snigger to myself as her and the boyf's dad were introduced and he looked wounded at having to take his eyes off the match. The bambino was just about to go to bed when she arrived but my ma insisted on her staying up and lo and behold, an hour later and the bambino was in meltdown mode. We'd managed to calm her down for a while by letting her sit on the sofa whilst she tried to fit her entire right hand in her mouth with one eye on the Man U game. Then my ma touched her 'fro and she burst into tears...clearly believing that she was about to have it combed.

By the time the bambino was settled (it was actually the first time since she's been born that she refused to settle), the football was over and I was gagging for my bed. Fortunately I'd recorded Heroes. The boyf said he was tired too and was in bed by the time I was finished brushing my teeth...watching the cricket...

"Oh NO! Get that SH*T off!" Moments later I was snuggled up under the duvet watching Heroes...and the boyf was snoring like he was in danger of choking himself...

I may hide the TV next Wednesday and see how they crumble and fall...Well I would if I was capable of lifting a 42"....