Monday, 12 August 2013

250 Words: Three pints of Guinness and a League Cup title

I was almost ten minutes late.  I left it 'til the last minute and found The Orchard Spot wasn't showing the game, leaving me rushing to The Kentish Yeoman.  I got my first pint in, took my pitch and begun to hope.  Bobbing and weaving to see around those ahead, I watched the game unfold; the wrong way in the first half.

At half time I tried to find another pub due to to racist remarks against Drogba following his goal.  The Rose seemed to be shut so I returned.

A second pint bought and I saw Spurs take the game to Chelsea eventually earning a penalty.  I thought handball, the linesman said a push.  Still, with almost too much calm, Superstar Dimitar converted and a larger cheer than that for Drogba was heard.

The third saw me through, cursing the fact that Zokora cannot bloody shoot.

At full time I downed what was left and had a pee before:

Extra time and I was 10 pence short of a fourth.  I resorted to crunching a mint.  Jenas put the ball in; Woodgate connected; Cech palmed onto Woodgate's head; massive smile on my face.  But so long to go.  Nerves in the pub; relief at saves and misses; applause for Robinson.  And finally the final whistle at an odd but beautiful moment (the best part of a scary minute late).  Joy unbound as the players collected the prize.  I walked into the rain ecstatic, a wee glistening in my eye.

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