I don’t know why I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be; it’s just football. And I’m not nervous, really, not mentally. It’s just my tummy feeling strange before the game. Which it has no right to because I’m a bench warmer today, just a sub in case anyone comes off injured. Which suits me fine because I could run and mark happily in short bursts, but not play for ages because I’m nursing a pulled muscle.
This game, for me personally, is not a big deal.
My day so far has been filled with restful sleep, Downton Abbey, quality time with cats, testing out a lens my friend loaned me and a bit of ukulele practice. Now it’s time to get ready for sport. I’m glad I’m going, excited to simply be there and support the team, but can’t shake the tingles and ever so slight nausea. Strange, huh?