Nausea. Disbelief. Anxiety. Fear. Pride. Joy. Pure, overwhelming excitement. Just some of the things I – and thousands of others, no doubt – am currently feeling ahead of Sunday’s final.
We’ve come into this final on the back foot a little bit and are confirmed once more as the underdogs. When we booked our place in the final, we were sitting pretty in third above our rivals Manchester United.
We’ve not only slipped behind them, but we’ve dropped just below the top four.
None of this is something I’m particularly interested in complaining about. I’d much prefer the table to have stayed that way, because there’s an argument we’d go into it slight favourites, but we’ve got a lot going for us.
Man United will be tired after what I’m told was a dogged game on Thursday – I couldn’t bear to watch it myself. We’ve got Bruno coming back, which is the best news, because we’ve sorely missed him. We have players with final and Wembley experience – Dan Burn has played (and, as he’ll remind you, scored) on the hallowed pitch. Loris Karius is getting a lot of disrespect for a man who played in a Champions League final when he spent a lot of it concussed. We’ve got a Wor Flags display to look forward to and a contingent of supporters that are far more amped up than Man U’s could ever be.
As I sit writing this, I know that this time on Saturday I’ll be at Trafalgar Square.
I know that this time on Sunday, I’ll be biting my nails furiously watching the game.
This time Monday, I’ll surely still be hungover – but all other factors, I don’t know.
The anticipation is killing me. I’ve not been focused on anything but Wembley for weeks. I sat and shook for a solid hour after I’d bought and confirmed my ticket. I waited anxiously until it arrived, certain something would have gone wrong.
I’ve checked my train and hotel reservations 2389248 times to make sure I’ve got the right times, dates and locations. I’ve dreamt about every possibility, from winning to losing and not making the game at all. I’ve woke up in a cold sweat about it more times than I care to admit.
I still can’t believe that I’m able to type these words: I’m going to Wembley to watch Newcastle United in a cup final.
See you all on the other side.
