The Cup Final

Starting and ending a relationship have a similar cycle.  At the beginning of a relationship, you start with disbelief, I can’t believe she’s going out with me. Then you have that honeymoon period including unfettered access to all the sex you want and a smile on your face at all times. Then things settle down and you are just happy before the rot sets in and you start looking around for something else. At the end, you start with disbelief, I can’t believe she’s dumped me, followed by the euphoria of single life including unfettered access to all the sport you want and a smile on your face the whole time. Then things settle down and you are just ticking along before the loneliness kicks in and you start to send text messages late at night begging for her to take you back.

I was in that final stage now; Sal had left me 6 weeks ago and apart from cheering the Blues to the final of the European Challenge Cup and one night of rebound sex, the novelty of being a single man had quickly worn off and now I was trying and failing to get Sal to meet me to discuss a reconciliation.

Throughout my life there seems to have been a inverse correlation between the success of my love life and the success of my rugby. When I was loved up, Blues matches were depressing affairs but when I was in the love doldrums, the Blues sailed majestically to success.

I clutched the tickets to the final in my hand. A trip to London with the boys, a few beers, a game of rugby and a chance for the team to win their first major trophy for 10 years, who could ask for anything more?

We were on the platform waiting for the train, optimism abounded amongst the massed ranks of fans. We could do this.

Where was the train? My phone buzzed. It was a message from Sal.

‘Meet me at 3 this afternoon.’

Sal had finally agreed to meet me, I couldn’t have been happier, but three? That was kick off time. I couldn’t meet her at three..

‘Can it be tomorrow?’ I replied.

‘Today or never.’ The reply came almost before I’d sent the message. 

My mouth moved like a goldfish but no words came out. The train was approaching, I had a choice; give the boys my ticket and stay at home to save my relationship, or get on the train and cheer my team to European glory.

Let’s face it, it was a no brainer. I got on the train, took my seat, opened a tinnie and settled in for a big day.