I know what the Grey Cup is. The Stanley Cup, I get.
Other cups, not so much.
This became apparent recently when the son was watching one. A cup, that is.
"This Davis Cup action is amazing," he remarked.
"The what cup?" I asked.
"The Davis Cup," he said. "You know."
No, I said. I did not.
"Rugby?" I asked.
"Cricket? Baseball, maybe?"
The son rolled his eyes.
"Tennis," he said.
"Everyone knows that."
Apparently, everyone does not know that. I didn't.
I must also admit that I do not know much about the other cups that are frequently discussed in our household. The Spengler Cup. The Ryder Cup. The America's Cup. The World Cup.
"What is that anyway?" I asked not long ago. "The Spender Cup?"
The men in the house rolled their collective eyes.
"It's Spengler," said the husband.
"It's hockey," said the son.
"Oh," I said. "I thought it was lacrosse."
Seems to me that I can be excused for not knowing one cup from the other. Also seems to me that there's no reason why we can't have the Davis Tennis Cup or the Spengler Hockey Cup or the World Whatever Cup.
"OK, Mr. Smarty Pants," I said to the son not long ago. "Who was Davis?"
"Huh?" he said.
"Davis. As in the Davis Cup."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"A tennis player, I'm guessing," he said. "And probably a really good one."
"And what about Grey? Who's the Grey Cup named for?"
The son thought for a moment.
"I think it's named for the colour," he said. "You know: like the Silver Cup."
Even I doubted that.
I disappeared and returned a few minutes later.
"It's named for Earl Grey," I said. "I Googled it."
"Who's he?" asked the son, yawning.
"Who WAS he, you mean," I said. "He was a governor general. But the tea wasn't named for him. The tea was named for a British prime minister."
The son looked confused.
"What tea?" asked the son, who prefers a good frothy Guinness to a hot cup of tea.
"Earl Grey," I said. "It's also a tea, as well as a cup."
The son nodded. The son, it appeared, was trying to figure out what football - or whatever it was - had in common with something you have with scones.
"OK," he said. 'I'm going back to the Davis Cup. I mean, the Davis Tennis Cup."
He made off for the television, and I made off for the kettle. I may not be on top of my cups, but I'm on top of my cups full of tea.
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