One
of the greatest satisfactions in sport is watching your mate's team lose. The bigger the occasion, the better it gets.
The ultimate working definition of schadenfreude, a sulky petulant reaction it may be but also one that undeniably provides some small ray of sunshine to dull the pain caused by your own hapless bunch of losers doing what they do best - and that's break your stupid sporting heart.
Because let's be honest. Sport, i.e. supporting sports teams, is about misery and pain.
Happiness and joy are only ever feelings of falsehood, a fleeting temporary respite from a continuum of constant disappointment. Following sports teams, investing all that emotional energy into something you have zero control over, is fraught with disaster - a place where hope goes to die.
Of course it's just a sad reflection of a man who void of life tries to live his vicariously through the triumphs/tribulations of others.
And at my age I really should grow up and find something more suitable or worthwhile to occupy as much of my leisure time as this meaningless pursuit does.
Having your mood dictated by an Australian cricket loss, a liverpool blunder, a Cowboys collapse is idiotic. Worse than that even, It's indefensible, unexplainable, irrelevant, pointless and pathetic.
It's also one of the best feelings in sport.
I admit it. Sad git. But surely no sadder than those among us who many times each day stand outside in full public view sucking a glass phallus and thinking they look cool.
I may need to get a life.
But all you lot need to get a mirror.
