Title: Unwanted hat-trick
Writer: Andrew Males, Stevenage
“If they win 2-0,” said my Scouse Geography teacher that morning, “I’ll eat my hat.” I laughed at this morning’s memory as I sat down in my bedroom, picked up a soft toy football and turned on the portable TV. I was confident, who wouldn’t be in our position? We’d just won the cup, were at Fortress Anfield, and playing Arsenal, who hadn’t won the league since I could remember. Another double beckoned…
I swore Smith never touched that free kick. It couldn’t be a goal, could it? Mind you, they needed another one - we’d surely survive. I shifted uneasily on my bed, helpless, as the game went on.
Steve McMahon held up a single finger. Just a minute to go! Go on Barnes-y. Just take it down to the corner, keep the ball. Almost there, I clutched my scarf, heart racing.
Now Arsenal had it back. All he had to do was keep it away from anyone in yellow, but he’d lost it. Now they could mount another attack. Come on ref, blow your whistle, you know it’s ours. Arsenal never win the league, so finish the game so we can all applaud the gallant Gunners. Breath held, I watched as Dixon pumped the ball forward…
As Brian Moore’s pitch climbed, my entire world froze watching Thomas bear down on Grobbelaar. A second later, it collapsed. The small football bounced off the screen. The bedroom door felt the impact of my fist. The street heard my anguish and then the phone started to ring.
Until then - as a Liverpool fan down South – I’d been in heaven, but now I had just been unexpectedly, violently thrown into hell.
Seventeen years and many trophies later, nothing can erase that scar. And he never did eat his hat.
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