I have spent the last three days marking work. Each assessment takes about 40 mins or so to do and I have done 30. It doesn't sound like much at a rate of ten a day but, believe me, it takes it out of you. My wrist is stuck in a funny position, my back aches and I am now convinced that 90% of the trainees I work with get pleasure from deliberately ignoring basic instructions.
I was just finishing off the last of the typing this afternoon and was feeling strangely melancholic. I was expecting a surge of euphoria but it felt more like the feeling I get when I have a lie in. Disappointingly un-refreshing or energising. I listened to the footy on the radio while I did this and was buoyed by most of the results which were favourable to Spurs' still precarious position.
The Carling Cup semi draw to Burnley hadn't cheered me up though I think I'd have been sceptical of our chances even if by some quirk in the rules Man U had been booted out, Women's Institute XI had replaced them and we'd drawn them with the first leg at the Lane the same night that nice Bruce Forsyth was on the telly talking about jam.
The only result I didn't approve of was Les Arses jammy (I knew there was a WI link there somewhere) 1-0 over Wigan at the new library. However, listening to the reports it seems that the fickle so called supporters were booing their own players. Even when they'd won! They then went on the 606 talk in to justify their position. I started to feel a little cheered by this.
It got me thinking about how we get on players' backs at the lane. Last season Bent got a lot of stick and his nervousness showed. This season the whole crowd have been biting their nails every time the ball went anywhere near Gomez. This tension was obviously rubbing off on him but then a strange thing happened...
At some point opposing fans started to tease our big cry baby keeper and we went all defensive. 'We love you Gomez, we do..' started to be heard. No sooner had we got behind the man with the biggest and butteriest fingers in England (couldn't include Scotland in this for obvious reasons) started looking super confident, even getting a man of the match award! Then, even funnier, David James did his comedy pass out in the UEFA cup mid week and even more spotlights turn away.
Anyway, these thoughts and the cheery warm feeling I got from hearing Les Culs de Woolwich stressing themselves out made me realise that the secret to contentment and a return from the edge of the Abyss of Glumness was to look at some of my favourite photos:
Nayim from the half way line...
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