Yaaaaay!!! England are through to the final of the rugby world cup. So next Saturday evening, I'll be biting my nails, folding laundry, flicking through the newspapers, washing the dishes, having a bath and doing everything else I can to keep away from the television.
I'm not saying I'm entirely responsible for the results this team are getting. I mean, obviously the 15 men who are actually on the pitch play their part as well. But let's just say that throughout this world cup, every time I've been watching it's gone disastrously for England. I watched the whole match against South Africa in the group stages, when England lost 36-0. And I didn't watch a single minute of England's win against Australia last weekend.
Tonight, I started trying to watch. Josh Lewsey scored a brilliant try in the second minute (the fastest try in world cup semi-final history, I believe), and I thought the jinx might have ended. But when England went behind 6-5, New Man banished me from the room. He had the telly on loud enough that I could hear some of what went on, and about 70 seconds before the final whistle, I knew England were ahead and set off back downstairs.
As soon as he heard me, New Man snapped, "Get back upstairs NOW!" As he explained afterwards, France were in an attacking position, and 70 seconds is 70 seconds. I mean, look what happened in the Six Nations this year - first France scored a last-minute try against Ireland to beat them at Croke Park in February, and then France scored a last-minute try against Scotland to win the Six Nations championship on points difference. And who were England playing today? France.
I immediately retreated - and the French player dropped the ball. And England won the match.
So as I said, next Friday the England team can rest assured that once again, I shall do everything in my power to avoid watching the match.