14th November 2005
Hi all,
Last night I barely slept. Outwardly I would say I didn't know why I couldn't fall asleep, but as I laid down with my head on the pillow with my mind racing I knew I could put it down to two events.
The first of these came shortly after Lorraine and I arrived home at about 8.30pm. I flicked on Sky Sports Extra to catch the latest NFL scores, and there before my eyes was Dolphins Stadium on a slightly overcast Sunday afternoon. The Dolphins game against the New England Patriots was being shown, get in!
Like an excited schoolboy I ran upstairs and put my Dolphins jersey on over my t-shirt, in spite of the fact that I needed to put some shopping away before my in-laws landed on the doorstep. When my in-laws did arrive the game was turning into a close-run affair, with the Dolphins starting to move the ball relatively easily up the field.
In the middle of a conversation about boilers it happened - the Dolphins took the lead. More to the point the player who got the go-ahead touchdown was Chris Chambers, who's jersey I proudly wore. Needless to say most of the conversation was going over my head as I pointed out the name on the back of my jersey, just the sort of image you want to project to your wife's parents a few weeks before you become responsible for the care of their first grandchild.
Of course being a team that I support it couldn't stay that way. If the Dolphins had marched up the field then the Patriots simply bulldozed up the field to reclaim the lead again. Swift, efficient, ruthless. All the elements of the champions they are. Everything that teams I support rarely are.
The only thing the Dolphins had in their favour was time. There was still plenty of it remaining, and it allowed them to march down the field in a disciplined fashion. Into the final minute, and there were the Dolphins just five yards away from the Patriots end zone. Advantage Miami? I really should have known better. Two incompletions, one ridiculous call for a short pass which doubled the distance to the end zone and a final pass which hit the turf via Chambers' fingertips. Good grief, could it be any closer? As the final seconds ticked away I shook my head and muttered words like "chronic" and "depressing".
Why must my teams always do this to me? With the exception of the Michael Jordan era Chicago Bulls my teams aren't capable of excellance, of slamming doors on opponents. They're all missing a killer instinct. They're all a bit too nice.
Later on in the evening (as I read all the post mortems at finheaven.com) Lorraine came up to me with some bad news. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was an accident." What was an accident? "I had to throw away one of your Palace mugs," she apologetically told me. "It fell off the mug tree and got chipped."
Of course given my nature I had to see how bad the chip was. Pretty unsaveable, even I had to admit that. "We can always get another one," Lorraine said to console me. Small problem - the Crystal Palace club shop had diminished to the point where you can no longer get the tasteful navy mug with the club crest and collected honours* tastefully aligned together.
(*Yes, I know our list of honours would be better suited to a shot glass, thanks for the reminder.)
Two disappointments in the one evening had to be met with calm, reasoned thinking. Obviously the best course of action was to take the unused, disliked Motherwell mug from the back of a kitchen cupboard and throw it about ten feet in the air in the driveway, leaving it to drop and break into about five pieces. An utterly worthless, pointless action, but one that made me feel slightly better (throwing it extremely hard at a wall would have been much more satisfying, but would have been noisier and messier, not a good combination). The thing was I came back into the house having despatched the remains to the bin and having made very little noise, but still my mood hadn't changed. Overwhelming disappointment.
Why do I enjoy sports? Right at the moment it is hard to think why. At the moment I support a bunch of underachievers, all of whom seem to be molding into one gigantic disappointment. What about a reality check? The Dolphins were playing the Patriots, winners of three of the last four Super Bowls. They're not supposed to win games like that, at least not during the current state of transition. But what happens in a week's time when Palace visit Brighton?
Palace have a multi-million pound strikeforce while Brighton, who were nearly relegated last season, are financially constrained by their temporary home only holding 8000 supporters. We should win, especially as there is no excuse for motivation given Brighton beat us about four weeks ago. Will it be that easy? Is it ever easy for any team I support? I can see the Palace team being in the front of the Sky cameras next Sunday, frustrated like John Malkovich in "Rounders" because Brighton keep "Yhanging around, yhanging around".
Should I be surprised if that happens? No. Should I be disappointed if that happens? No. Will I be surprised and disappointed if it happens? Undoubtedly. Remind me again why I love sports, will you?
(I think I can see why some guys stick to washing cars at the weekends. Where's my large sponge gone?)
Have a good week!
Tony
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