Never have been really. These days I've lost my impressive lie-in capacity which often took me past noon on a Saturday, but nonetheless I still hate getting out of bed.
It often feels unfair to me that one of the things I hate the most in the whole world is something that I have to do every single day. I mean, I hate tarantulas and paedophiles as well, but thankfully don't encounter them on a frequent basis (bet I meet a kiddy fiddling arachnid tonight now, typical) - but getting out of bed is just something that you have to do. No one believes me if I say I'm doing it 'for peace' or as a protest against the favourable depiction of 'Arry Redknapp in the media, they just think I'm a lazy slothful waster.
What I'm getting at here is that leaving my comfy bed is not something that I find easy. Some people spring out of bed and love to make the most of the early morning hours, but I can't classify myself in the category. With the scene thus set, you will understand what position I was in when my alarm went off at 5:45 yesterday morning.
The reason for this hideous noise to pervade my brain at a time when it should be dreaming of exploding whales (the true subject of my dream that night - dream analysts, help) was simple: Chelsea vs Man United.
The evening kick off translates over here to an early morning start - 06:45 to be precise. The fact that the game is not shown on free-to-air TV threw another spanner in the works; to watch it properly I'd have to get up, achieve some level of respectability in my appearance, and venture out into the still sleeping world. From previous Arsenal Barcelona experience I knew none of my local pubs would be open, so I sourced a 24 hour Irish pub in Sydney that confirmed they would have the game on, so the plan was set.
The morning all went relatively smoothly, I got up on time, packed a bag for work and made the ferry with seconds to spare. The pub was busy with football fans (mainly United), the big screens were plentiful, seats were available, volume was up high, and the red and blue shirts were walking out in glorious HD. So far so good...but I knew the success or otherwise of this entire plan was in the fate of those footballers. A dreadful 0-0 almost never feels like it was worth sitting through, and having left my pit so prematurely I had reason to worry about how volatile I might be if that was the scenario that played out.
Thankfully, however, it was a thoroughly enjoyable game. Not just for the result - as a neutral I wanted Chelsea to win in order to keep the title race alive with as many teams involved for as long as possible; not just for the incident packed action; and not just for the amusing agony suffered by a gold and green-scarfed gentlemen in work suit drinking VB like he was Aron Ralston in a spot of bother. How he got on at work for the rest of the day I'd love to know. Anyway, the key to why it was such an enjoyable game lay for me in the approach taken by both teams.
Lining up with two out and out attackers, a formation rarely used by the biggest teams over the last 5 years or so, immediately promised for a more attacking approach. Perhaps that was understandable, Chelsea knew anything less than a win was it for their chances of defending their title, whilst United could have taken a huge pyschological step towards Number 19 in the wake of Arsenal's dreadful weekend. Whatever the reason for this approach, it made for an extremely enjoyable game; one spell in particular after Ol' Bob Terwilliger drew Chelsea level was like watching NBA Jam - both teams sprinting end to end and trying to pull off one of those ridiculous quadruple somersault smash-the-backboard Power Dunks. God damn I miss my Megadrive.
All in all it was a great game and the classic 'advert for English football' that Sky et al love to put forward. It's given renewed hope to the Blues, reduced the gap for United at the top to potentially just a point, and hopefully shown other teams that favouring attack and going for it just might be the way to go.
It often feels unfair to me that one of the things I hate the most in the whole world is something that I have to do every single day. I mean, I hate tarantulas and paedophiles as well, but thankfully don't encounter them on a frequent basis (bet I meet a kiddy fiddling arachnid tonight now, typical) - but getting out of bed is just something that you have to do. No one believes me if I say I'm doing it 'for peace' or as a protest against the favourable depiction of 'Arry Redknapp in the media, they just think I'm a lazy slothful waster.
What I'm getting at here is that leaving my comfy bed is not something that I find easy. Some people spring out of bed and love to make the most of the early morning hours, but I can't classify myself in the category. With the scene thus set, you will understand what position I was in when my alarm went off at 5:45 yesterday morning.
The reason for this hideous noise to pervade my brain at a time when it should be dreaming of exploding whales (the true subject of my dream that night - dream analysts, help) was simple: Chelsea vs Man United.
The evening kick off translates over here to an early morning start - 06:45 to be precise. The fact that the game is not shown on free-to-air TV threw another spanner in the works; to watch it properly I'd have to get up, achieve some level of respectability in my appearance, and venture out into the still sleeping world. From previous Arsenal Barcelona experience I knew none of my local pubs would be open, so I sourced a 24 hour Irish pub in Sydney that confirmed they would have the game on, so the plan was set.
The morning all went relatively smoothly, I got up on time, packed a bag for work and made the ferry with seconds to spare. The pub was busy with football fans (mainly United), the big screens were plentiful, seats were available, volume was up high, and the red and blue shirts were walking out in glorious HD. So far so good...but I knew the success or otherwise of this entire plan was in the fate of those footballers. A dreadful 0-0 almost never feels like it was worth sitting through, and having left my pit so prematurely I had reason to worry about how volatile I might be if that was the scenario that played out.
Thankfully, however, it was a thoroughly enjoyable game. Not just for the result - as a neutral I wanted Chelsea to win in order to keep the title race alive with as many teams involved for as long as possible; not just for the incident packed action; and not just for the amusing agony suffered by a gold and green-scarfed gentlemen in work suit drinking VB like he was Aron Ralston in a spot of bother. How he got on at work for the rest of the day I'd love to know. Anyway, the key to why it was such an enjoyable game lay for me in the approach taken by both teams.
Lining up with two out and out attackers, a formation rarely used by the biggest teams over the last 5 years or so, immediately promised for a more attacking approach. Perhaps that was understandable, Chelsea knew anything less than a win was it for their chances of defending their title, whilst United could have taken a huge pyschological step towards Number 19 in the wake of Arsenal's dreadful weekend. Whatever the reason for this approach, it made for an extremely enjoyable game; one spell in particular after Ol' Bob Terwilliger drew Chelsea level was like watching NBA Jam - both teams sprinting end to end and trying to pull off one of those ridiculous quadruple somersault smash-the-backboard Power Dunks. God damn I miss my Megadrive.
All in all it was a great game and the classic 'advert for English football' that Sky et al love to put forward. It's given renewed hope to the Blues, reduced the gap for United at the top to potentially just a point, and hopefully shown other teams that favouring attack and going for it just might be the way to go.
In this season where everyone is beatable, managers may be forced to realise that 3 points is worth so much more than 1, which would be a great shift for the watching masses in terms of the spectacle laid on. Whilst we're on the subject of the spectacle for the watching masses...you just know Sky are going to have one cameraman on 'Gary Neville in the crowd' duty at every United game from now on!! Keenan's passionate and slightly deranged jumping around and swearing was great to see and just added to how good yesterday morning was, definitely worth getting out of bed for. And it's not often I'd say that...
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