what a day

Now Plaistow has done this far more justice than I. He was there for starters. But he also nailed the build up. The atmosphere, quirks of the boozer, charity funding, opinions of the side etc. I've been there too and and it's a tough gig sometimes, accepting strange fans opions noons about our beloveds, but hey, shit happens.
Where did I watch it?
Ahem.
With my 7&5 year old.
Jesus what have I created?
The other half was out pre planned family stuff. What was I to do? Weather was foul, homework was done, it seemed innocent enough to set them up with their drawing paraphanelia as I found www.hammerstv.com.
It's not all swings and biscuits. I had to fetch the sick bucket as "Keys and Gray" appeared on some bizzare forum.
Seriously, looking back (hindsight is interesting) but they are major c*nt gravy of the highest order. Their pomposity is beyond belief.
I digress.
I would say the whistle went, but for West Ham it didn't.
Now here's where you don't like me.
We were fucking shit for 77 minutes.
Slow, boring, predictable, and here's the crux, lucky to have 11 men!!
Why? Well we started like we normally do....comatose.
I don't get it? Our passing is sluggish, tempo non existent...why?
I know we have to earn the right, but laying down and sucking Lukakus cock will not help(what we basically did)
I almost switched my laptop off at HT but for my eldest who said "we've got Payet Dad" (he's always been my favourite)
And so the second half.
Andy lumbers on. I'm not thrilled.
Neither is he team.
2-0
Fuck them it's going off "no Dad you always say it's not over till the fat lady sings" (eldest) I've bred an intelligent git......
Ref decides to count his pubes as another cheating fuckwit blue nose dives, "penalty!"
I'm now in the kitchen and pacing the table wondering how many times well be torn open in the shitty north west.
5 year old chirps up "Dad, Adrian is brilliant at penalties! He'll save it!"
I barely acknowledged until they both shouted "yes!"
I ran in
He'd only saved it.....
My boys were jumping and shouting Adrian's name....and it was that moment ladies and gentlemen, that I remembered why.....
It matters not about the result, game, outcome...
It's those moments. Those times.
Like a camera flash.
For them it snapped it, and they adore Adrian (not least because he is a star and embraces the fans)
I'm not going to mention those last 3 goals. I'm not good enough to capture my boys celebrations.
Suffice to say we kissed, cuddled and bundled to the extent I've done something to my back that's not good, but I'll take it, and the pain.
We shouted, screamed, caused mayhem and delirium.
After calming down we had pizza, ice cream and fell asleep before match of the day on the sofa.
A tangled mass of West Ham shirts.
My boys now lead me.
Together. Always.
Beautiful.
COYI.