In Preperation

The day has come. Friday 15th April.

To be honest, my nerves are nothing compared to last year. Last year, same stage and same venue. The night before I seem to remember tearing my own eyes out and had a monstrous nightmare at doing a brilliant Massimo Taibi impression. The starting line-up has been distributed, with the obvious happy and sad faces no doubt distributed in equal measure.

On paper, our challenge is much greater. Last year, the final was against a team a few places lower than us in the same division. This year, they are a few places higher but in the division above. About 15 places seperate us, and in Sunday morning football, that's a fair gap. I have heard many a rumour about how their strikers are less footballers, more giants, and I have seen their results over the season. Many 7's and 8's litter their scores like a dog litters the local park. I fear it may be a challenge, but a challenge that the inconsistent team we call, MAFC, can certainly overcome. We've just got to hope we turn up with our A-Game. Or maybe our A*-Game.. Or maybe Warner can dive again?

Still, I am a bit excited for the occasion. More so than I was last year, where nerves and apprehensiveness certainly took over. I know what it's going to be like this time. I know what to expect, and despite not playing since this time last week, I am fairly confident I will have a solid enough game. My expectations are exactly the same as last year, however. I don't mind if we win or lose, just as long as I don't lose it for us. As a goalkeeper, you ALWAYS feel awful, if you see your teammates putting their spleens on the line for a positive result, only for you to fumble an easy cross and gift the opposition victory on a silver platter. You don't do anything strenuous for the whole game, and then you go and give it to them anyway. There is nothing worse, and despite not really minding what the outcome will be, in front of what will be a big crowd, on a fairly big stage, you don't want that as a sportsman. You don't want that as a human being... All you want, is for the Devil to open up a portal into the Underworld so you can sink slowly into invisibility.

There is still something I am slightly nervous about, however. The fact that, if we win, I am going to have to venture into town to celebrate. And we all know what happened last time don't we, folks? I do have two options. I can either play it very safe, and not go out at all, (although I am told Father Mitten is even going to make an appearance if we do), or I can go out and take it very easy. If we lose, the choice is easy. Save money and move on, don't "drown your sorrows". If we win, I might lose control. Who knows! I am refereeing on Saturday however, and pulling off the game on Saturday morning due to "illness", (incidentally, talking to the same man who will referee tomorrow's cup final), isn't really going to work. We'll see.

Back to the present, (or very near past), this evening was rather interesting. The topic of 'karaoke' has popped up on many an occasion, and after a little bit of deliberation, me and Ridgway decided to go and kidnap a few people and go down to the pub. What we found on arrival however, was a very quiet local with no singing. It's tomorrow... Oh well. It saved us the embarrassment, and we instead spent a fair few quid on the quiz machine, (in fairness, winning half of it back!), and went home via the obvious place, and decided it was actually a success after all. Can't complain.

Watch out for tomorrow evening's post, where I will probably be explaining how I lost us the cup final.