We took the kids to see Los Hispanos play Portugal. Spain’s handball team, live, in the European Cup.

Handball has never been my sport. But the kids play it now, and at their club I’ve been handed some stripes: I take care of the odd bureaucratic chore on match days. When you fill in the paperwork for a sport, you end up caring about it a bit. Call it professional deformation. I’m starting to enjoy it, and even to feel some affection for it.

So when someone mentioned the chance of going to this match, I didn’t think about it much. We bought the tickets and off we went.

I didn’t expect to see such beasts. In person they’re far more imposing than on TV.

The score was 37-37. A draw with plenty of goals at both ends. And honestly, it’s the least important part of the day.

What I’ll remember is the rest: unlocking a new achievement in the “matches seen live” category, having a good excuse for a trip, eating together, and watching the kids’ faces in the stands. That’s what we took home, and that’s what stays.