Title: Soccer vs. Football
Author: dizzy - in - the - izzy
Rating:
Somewhere in the K's
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, even the explanation.
Summary: Tony calls it soccer, Ziva calls it football. McGee... well, he's used to being the referee.

Dedication: Happy Late Birthday to Silent Falling Rain. I know I'm like almost a whole month late, but girly! You need to come back to the wonderful world of FanFiction! I miss you!

A/N: Hello! So, after a very long conversation this morning with my UK friends about the differences between American English and English English, I came up with this idea. I've been slightly following the World Cup (more of an American Football fan myself), and I recently read an article about the use of 'soccer'. I was highly humored by the article, and very enlightened. So, while in the shower (of all places) this was born and as soon as I got dressed I dragged my Muse and laptop off my bed, turned on my Summmer 10 music playlist and began to type. I took me exactly 30 minutes (plus frequent drinks of water and hair brushes as the mass is still wet haha). I also wanted to make a point of the fact that Ziva would (if the writers stayed true to her characters background) call it football.

Oh, and before I forget, Happy 4th Of July! I'm excited to go celebrate with a barbaque and watch fireworks from the back of a Ford truck on top of the huge hill behind my house. :D

So, enjoy!


"I think the son knows something."

Tony looked across the bullpen at Ziva, trying to see where her brain was going. They had been doing searches on various parts of their victim's life, and so far, nothing had yielded an answer. Now, it seemed, Ziva was moving onto the family.

"I don't think so. He was too preoccupied by his soccer ball to talk to us."

Tony went back to his search (which was really an intense game of Bejeweled 2). McGee coughed, and Tony looked up. Ziva was looking right at Tony, her face a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"He was playing with a football." Ziva said, and Tony snorted.

"I think I know a football, Ziva. He was kicking that round ball. Most definitely a soccer ball."

McGee watched as Ziva sat up straighter, her back resembling a straight stick.

"If you have forgotten, I get up in Israel. I have always called it a football."

A smirk bloomed on Tony's face, and he got up. He walked around his desk to stand near Ziva's, his hands planting themselves in any empty place they could find. Ziva crossed her arms.

"But you have also just become an American citizen."

"And?"

"And, that means, that football is now American football." Tony said in a light tone, and Ziva laughed. Tony smirked at her, standing up straight.

"Oh, you laugh, but it's a part of our culture. Big, burly men fighting over a pig skin on a green, lush field. They work as a team to get past their enemy's defense and to the end zone. There's violence, oh loads of violence, as the teams fight to get to each other quarter back and to the ball. People congregate at houses, tailgate, and cheer as their favorite teams march onto victory. All winter long, every Sunday is filled with games." Tony paused, gauging Ziva's reaction.

"And then, on a Sunday sometime after the New Year, the biggest event in television history occurs. Super. Bowl. Sunday. Where the kings are crowned. It's a huge event of beers, yelling and violence."

Ziva rolled her eyes, watching as Tony explained. When he finished and looked at her, she shook her head.

"I am not a fan of football."

"Well, then you obviously haven't watched with me. I even got McGee over here into it. We watched the Super Bowl together this year. We rooted for the Saints."

McGee shrugged and shot an innocent smile at Ziva as she glared at him. He was staying out of this, and Tony didn't have to pull him into the conversation. This could only end badly.

"I bet you would not know the first thing about football." Tony recognized the emphasis on the last word, and smirked.

"I am not a fan of football."

Ziva glared at him as her own words slipped from his mouth, and McGee pulled at his collar. Since when had it gotten so hot in the bullpen? Coughing again, he slightly caught the attention of the sparring partners.

"Actually, you are both right."

Now that he had their full attention, he began to explain.

"The term 'soccer' is an English term. It's a synonym for football. In 1863, when the game was being created, men got together to make the rules and they became the founders of the Football Association. But, to distinguish the game from rugby football, they took the third, fourth and fifth letters of association and called it soccer."

Tony and Ziva looked at McGee in shock, wondering when and where he'd acquired this knowledge.

"So, really, American's aren't very off in calling it soccer. It was one of the original names of the sport." McGee was now just trying to get them to blink, and finally Tony did so.

"And we have American football, so it works."

"Yeah, I guess." McGee said, looking back at his computer.

"It's just now; the whole world calls it football except America." Ziva said, adding her two cents. Tony shrugged.

"That's because we're special." Ziva laughed.

"I bet you couldn't play soccer if you tried." She challenged. Tony, always enjoying a challenge, bent back down and put his hands on her desk.

"And I bet you couldn't throw a perfect spiral if you tried." He challenged back.

"You can throw a perfect spiral?" McGee asked. He had never been excellent at sports, but he had tried once or twice to throw a football and failed.

"I have always been good at sports that involve using your hands. In fact, I'm just naturally gifted with my hands."

There was a pause, and then Ziva snorted.

"He just likes having balls in his hands."

If there was ever a wrong moment for Gibbs to walk into the bullpen, it was that moment in time.

"What the hell is going on here?"


A/N: McGee's explanation is just me paraphrasing and changing words from the original explanation. I certainly do hope it is correct (can't believe EVERYTHING you read on the internet, but I don't think that man was lying).

So, anywho, Happy 4th!

Oh, and an early Happy Birthday to me. It's in two days! It's my sweet sixteen! I hope to update other stories by the ninth. I'm going to have a busy next few days!

Reviews are much appreciated!

-With love, Izzy:).