On a long and uneventful drive back to The New Forest, my mind wandered a little. Between Newark and Leicester there is a go kart track and the thought struck me that here I was driving along when countless others where doing actually quite exciting things. As I looked at the temperature rising on the gauge, I tried to imagine how warm the sea would be at Swanage, mmmm 12 noon and I could have been starting my second dive around the Victorian pier, would the visibility be ok, I even considered would I have ditched my 5mm gloves for the 3mm ones. As we approached home the traffic queues going away from the Forest stretched for miles. Then reality struck, here's me thinking that everyone else's weekend had been exciting and yet I had been part of one of the most thrilling climaxes to any football season anywhere. Money could not buy what I had enjoyed. Nothing could be compared with the pure emotion of Saturday afternoon. I wondered how many had seen my city scarf and the club badge at the back of my car and thought, "I bet he had a great weekend, what a journey".
