Actually woke up this morning thinking Arsenal’s late winner over Newcastle had been a dream.
I got up and watched the last 7 or so minutes of the match again, so I could be sure.
Weekday matches are always a bit annoying to begin with, because it is a rare occasion when I can disappear from work for 3 hours in the middle of the day to watch them. Thus, my day is spent in a heightened paranoid state where I attempt to avoid all media, text messages, or contact with the outside world.
My coworkers, having previously been admonished, occasionally like to joke about revealing the result. I remind them that doing so, is a firing offense. It helps that one of our partners is Arsenal born and raised and enduring the same ritual as I.
I end up watching over dinner with She Who Must Be Obeyed, who is a loyal Gooner in her own right, but I’m still a bit chafed at not having been able to watch live at Maggie McGarry’s Irish Pub with other Arsenal supporters. Short of being at the Emirates for the match, there is no place I’d rather watch than with the Bay Area Gooners.
Funny how a late winner will salve all wounds and make one forget the petty annoyances of the day. A dream come true.