Living in NW London means every home game is a relative mission but well played TFL: no met line, or chiltern line into central London. Go alternative route into town, no victoria line.
At this rate I might stop off at Heathrow and rent a helicopter or something!
Anyway; still awake last night at 02.30, woke at 6.45, pacing the house, driving the Mrs mad.
Leave home and think of the enormity of today, what's happened since we left the Goldstone personally and for the club and imagining how it could feel today at 5pm. Immediately well up.
I'm going to be a drunken mess when I reach my seat at 2.45pm to hear from the one and only Inigo Calderon. *blub*