Did He Really Mean It?

In response to Bamos’ last post, I couldn’t have put it better myself big guy. My dad was shouting up to me from outside the shop last night, screaming, ‘your team have scored’. My initial reaction was, ‘I’ll never be able to get a ticket for Cardiff.’ I sat down on my bed, and to be honest, I felt like crying. This whole run has not only seen us witness some fantastic footballing achievments, its brought us all together as even better mates. This may seem soppy, but on this run, I have seen acquaintances become friends, and friends become confidants. And I don’t want to see it end now. Not after all this.

If it is to end now, I still have plenty of memories that will live with me forever. The last minute winner versus Chalfont, the squeaky voice, the minutes silence (still one of the most emotional things I have ever seen), the baileys, the chilli, the shaft theme tune, the cab driver etc etc. I could go on all day.

 I feel so deflated today. I should have made the effort last night. I feel like someone has died before I got the chance to speak to them one last time, or I have missed a chance with a girl because I haven’t told her how I felt. As much as I want to be in Chasetown for the Cardiff game, can I go? I will feel like a fraud.

On a day that should be filled with happiness, I am at my lowest point of this run so far.