Is age, unfamiliarity or deep-seated sexism sweeping me along to the Euro 2022 final without an agonising knot of nerves?
In 2014, Cambridge United played Gateshead in the National League play-off Final. Four minutes to go and we were 2-1 up when Ian Miller, our centre-back, went down with a broken ankle. We’d used all our subs. The referee played 10 minutes of injury time. TEN MINUTES. It felt about a year. Gateshead put a header just wide as the clock flicked to 99 minutes. My voice had gone. I could barely breathe. The relief at the final whistle is almost impossible to articulate.
Every fan recognises that agonising knot of nerves that goes beyond the pit of the stomach. It is overwhelming and all-consuming. Nothing else can give you that escapism – you are completely lost in the moment – but it’s very difficult to work out if it’s in any way enjoyable.
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