I'm going to watch the United-Liverpool game...
My eyes lit up on hearing Liverpool being mentioned. Instantly, the visitor sitting across me at the dining table had my undividied attention.
I soon realised that they weren't popping down to the local or getting Sky installed at their homes. They were actually going to make the short journey across the Irish Sea to England to watch the match.
Hang on. Isn't the game on at Old Trafford?
And, you're going with, out of all people...Sam?
It's not that I didn't like Sam (not his real name of course) or anything. He's a very decent fella that I've known for a very long time. In fact, if I had to choose a couple of lads to watch football with, he'd be on my shortlist. The only problem this time around was that Sam is a Liverpool fan. He's normally quiet enough but when it comes to all things Liverpool he can be very loud, very vocal.
Seeing that you're a United fan, I assume you got yourselves tickets with the home crowd then?
As soon as I finished my sentence, it dawned on the visitor that, with our Liverpool fanatic friend in tow, his planned pilgrimage to Old Trafford could go all wrong by the end of the match. His face slowly turned from a pad thai-filled red to a ghostly shade of white as he began to visualise his day out with Sam.
Yes...shit and you better pray Lucas Leiva doesn't score a hattrick.
I for one, would definitely not be praying for a Liverpool defeat. Yes, as much as I value friendships, I think I'll give just this time a pass. Sam has just got to learn to stay quiet. And that, is like praying for a miracle.
Come on you Reds!