After a totally mad week of traveling and emotion at work, I got home late last night and slept like a log. I doubt I will tonight.
I am filled with hope and fear in equal measure on the eve of what is likely to go down in our glorious history as one of our most important days. Win and we have a chance of salvation from the madness of the last few years, a hope that we will finally see the back of the lunatic we have as an owner. Lose and I genuinely fear for our survival.
My heart starts racing for no apparent reason - fear kicking in. I pause and reflect on last Friday and the release of raw emotion as that last penalty was blasted wide, and I laugh uncontrollably.
Of all sport, only football can do that - and when combined with a deep emotional attachment to a football club - childhood memories, the first game, the highs, the lows, the laughs the tears, it takes on almost irrational thought.
My beloved Charlton Athletic Football Club - not the greatest team but comfortably the greatest football club. I praise the day I was born in Woolwich.
Come on my Red Boys - let us walk out of the ground tomorrow and float down Wembley Way, singing our hearts out.
My only desire.
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