Gooners on the verge of a nervous breakdown

Did you have trouble sleeping last night? Tossing and turning while muttering,…Wenger…must play 4-4-2…not Silvestre…we’ve got Cesc Fabregas, we’ve got Cesc Fabregas. Somewhere in London, each of us stateside Gooners has a English counterpart, chewing their nails to the bone.

They have a distinct advantage over us, what with footie being so ingrained in the public consciousness – their bosses, spouses, the guy at the corner shop, even if they’re not Arsenal supporters, know that this is a very big day indeed.

Our lot is not quite as simple, and often, twice as nerve wracking. Pity the poor American Gooner who cannot get to the pub mid-day today, must try and diligently maintain a media blackout, avoiding email, texts, the Internets, in order to get home to watch a tape of the match.

Or those who risk disciplinary action by streaming the match online when they’re supposed to be knee deep in a spreadsheet making budgetary decisions. I’ve been there and I would not wish it on anyone. I finally decided to take partial vacation days for the remaining weekday matches in Arsenal’s season, much to the bemusement of some of my coworkers. The 2nd leg of the Champions League Semi-Final against Manchester United means little or nothing to them.

But I don’t really care that most people I will pass on the street today, have no clue about the MOST IMPORTANT THING THAT IS HAPPENING TODAY, I’ll be at Maggie McGarry’s Irish Pub in North Beach today in time for kick-off, to commence drinking, shouting, singing, with a group of people, just as nervous, tense, and as painfully aware of the task ahead of Arsenal today.

C’mon you Gunners!

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