s1ty m wrote:I struggled to eat me tea tonight, the yips arrived and it will be murders until the final whistle. I hate derby games, always have; way too much hatred for the rags in me to actually enjoy them.
I'll confess this...
2-0 at the swamp on their jubilee bollocks day. I stood up and said I was going out, the anxiety was just so uncomffortable. I rode around on my bike checking my watch every 3 seconds. I told my daughter to text me if anything good happened. No texts. I rode past the lounge window when there was about 5 minutes left, by my estimation. I caught a wiff of crowd noise and just bottled it. About 5 minutes later my dad called with the result. There I was on my bike, empty side street and I had missed a glorious win. Sad or what? When Owen scored the winner in 34th minute of injury time, I was stood in our back garden. I bottled it at 90 minutes. I heard some shitbag neighbour cheer, my daughter comes out, tears in her eyes saying it is all so unfair. I could have puked.
And about an hour ago I started thinking that I would be best just going out for a walk for a couple of hours tomorrow night. I won't, it's too cold. I need to think about maybe I should chill a bit. But it is so important that we get through.
Ah bollocks, bottle of beaujolais and I have to watch it. Ignore me, I am just spouting shite now. Come on blues, please.
crackin post! Footie nerves, joys and sorrows! well done