It is almost upon us and the moment that everyone has been waiting for.
Enough of the meaningless action. This is what really matters. The weeks have counted down to days and the days have trickled down to hours. You get twitchy. You find yourself looking at your watch every minute. The tension is unbearable. You just want the moment to arrive.
You spend your time thinking about it. Tactics, formations, game situations. Will we see as much drama as last time? Will we see some managerial genius, perhaps? Will the niggle heal enough to allow your favourite player to play? Will it even matter? Enough of the stupid inner discussion. The mind goes numb as the seconds go by.
It seems like an eternity and yet, before you know it, its there. The camera crews are ready. The players are warming up. You peer to see if your favourite player is moving without discomfort. The incessant drone of the commentator starts to get annoying. Let’s see some action now, please.
The players are in the tunnel. They walk out for the pre-match line-ups and you feel something welling up inside you. It’s unexplainable. It’s football.
The captains get the toss done. The ball is placed at the centre of the lush green pitch. The heart starts beating. You can hear it.
The crowd goes into a frenzy and then.......you hear it.........
"CAAAREFREE! Wherever you may be............!"
Those familiar but immortal words resonate inside you. No vuvuzelas thank you, just an away end full of mad-men clothed in blue.
The ref blows the whistle. Its 3 pm (English time) on the 17th of July. The venue is Selhurst Park.
Enough of the meaningless action. This is what really matters. The weeks have counted down to days and the days have trickled down to hours. You get twitchy. You find yourself looking at your watch every minute. The tension is unbearable. You just want the moment to arrive.
You spend your time thinking about it. Tactics, formations, game situations. Will we see as much drama as last time? Will we see some managerial genius, perhaps? Will the niggle heal enough to allow your favourite player to play? Will it even matter? Enough of the stupid inner discussion. The mind goes numb as the seconds go by.
It seems like an eternity and yet, before you know it, its there. The camera crews are ready. The players are warming up. You peer to see if your favourite player is moving without discomfort. The incessant drone of the commentator starts to get annoying. Let’s see some action now, please.
The players are in the tunnel. They walk out for the pre-match line-ups and you feel something welling up inside you. It’s unexplainable. It’s football.
The captains get the toss done. The ball is placed at the centre of the lush green pitch. The heart starts beating. You can hear it.
The crowd goes into a frenzy and then.......you hear it.........
"CAAAREFREE! Wherever you may be............!"
Those familiar but immortal words resonate inside you. No vuvuzelas thank you, just an away end full of mad-men clothed in blue.
The ref blows the whistle. Its 3 pm (English time) on the 17th of July. The venue is Selhurst Park.