The UEFA Champions League Final is just hours away and boy am I nervous. I'm excited too, but at some point I realized I'm one of those fans who clams up and lives with his face buried halfway in his hands during big moments. Right now is the calm before the storm and I assure I am not calm.
Why I am so worked up over a little ol' soccer game here in the States? Well, despite Edmunds's cries for objectivity, that ain't happening today. My heart is with Manchester United, just as it has been since Eric Cantona guided us to victory in 1996 FA Cup Final; just as it was when we pulled off a miracle comeback to take the Champions League title ten years ago; just as it was when we reclaimed it last year. Oh, did I not mention Man United are the defending champions? Yeah, suck on that rest of Europe!
My alarm is shrieking at me, which means it's time for me to be start getting dressed and consuming obscene amounts of coffee. I hardly slept a wink last night because, as you know, I've got a big day ahead of me.
One final note: I'm not sure if it's an advantage or a disadvantage, but Champions League games start at 11:30 here on the West Coast. What better excuse than watching your team compete for the greatest prize in club football is there to drink before noon? (Besides any Wednesday in college of course.)
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