Butterflies
Eight o'clock tonight. I can't wait for it to arrive. I know that wishing your life away is a bad thing, and I know that the odds are against us ( Marseille being 8/11 to qualify for the final) but therein lies my love of football. It's like Christmas, in that the sense of anticipation that runs throughout Advent is the best bit. The build up is when everything is possible, you stand on the edge and don't know what will happen when you jump off.

This is why I love football. This is why I've been supporting Newcastle United for as long as I can remember (Geographical proximity may once have played a factor but it wasn't what got me hooked.). I love the fact that for 90 minutes (please let it be 90, not 120 or worse penalties - we're rubbish at penalties) I've got little or no control over what happens. I love the fact that the actions of a bunch of blokes I've never even met will affect my general mood for hours after the game, and will probably live with me for the rest of my life. I can't get enough of it.

The worst thing is that having tasted the euphoria of a victory once, you want to have another mouthful, and another, and so on and so on until you lie bloated, but even then like Mr Creosote there is still the temptation of that extra wafer thin mint...

I know that my better half despairs of the fact that I can be lost in quiet contemplation of what formation we'll be playing, or who is going to step into the gaping hole left by injuries, but that's what football is all about. That's why millions of people love it. That's what got me hooked, that's what prompts me to buy games where I can play/manage football teams, magazines where I can read about other people's love of the game, constantly look at websites for news about my team, that's why people say it's like a drug.

Maybe they're right.

But I'm an addict and I love it.

Ha'way the Lads!
- posted by Paul @ 11:53 am