In these fairly abysmal times, most of us will be searching for the next thing to look forward to. Whatever it be, whether it’s the weekend, or… it’s the weekend isn’t it, lets be honest.
Part of the weekend is obviously the football, for many of us, and I’ve been thinking back to our lovely day at Wembley in May and how it’s almost changed my perception of the match day.
With the government seemingly determined to ensure the majority of us live as miserable a life as possible, the match on a Saturday is a welcome distraction – yes we have no strikers and that, and we’re quite probably going to lose to Wigan, but bear with me, my point still stands. I wrote at length about the Play Off Final experience, and how it was the people that made it. Well, it’s the people for me, that make a normal match day.
If I am honest, I am not sure why I am writing this, I think I just need to write something down. Things have been a little tricky of late, and seeing my mates, family, people I only recognise from the match, have been beacons of light (metaphorically, not the massive building next to the Stadium of Light). I’m writing this I think because we are all largely in the same position – we all go to the match with our own crowd, and in a way for me it is a sort of therapy.
Meeting the lads and talking utter, utter drivel that outside of about 13 people is just not funny (Check out the WMS Preview Show), it’s an escape from the fairly dismal reality that those in charge of us all want us to endure.
Thanks for reading this, and also thanks to people who have asked me if I’m alright recently. I am, truly, I’ve probably not been myself, but don’t worry I’ll be tweeting again about address books and walruses soon.
This is also an invitation, if anyone needs a beer on a match day, tweet me, come see us – have a beer and talk about Elton John.
We’re going to lose to Wigan.