Cracks Beginning to Show?

Tottenham Hotspur, 24 May 2009, Anfield.

Sky Sports have the Premiership trophy on Standby in a helicopter around Huddersfield, Shankly's old stomping ground, half way between Anfield and Hull where Untied didn't expect the title to still be on tenterhooks. But it is.

The thought of getting into the ground and it all coming down to this. 19 years of waiting. A lifetime of waiting, and it's here. In touching distance.

The thought of it happening. Phil Brown's Hull nicking the point they need for safety, and Liverpool romping past Spurs emulating the title winners of 1982 with Robbie Keane watching on with a hint of regret as we are crowned Champions .

The thought of Steven Gerrard lifting that wonderful trophy, in front of the Kop. His Kop. Its what he's dreamt of.

It's what I've dreamt of. Everyday. For over a decade.

During the day, I'm supposed to be concentrating on my job, but I'm not I'm thinking "If we beat Fulham on Saturday we're top in April. TOP!"

During the evenings I'm supposed to be listening to my family or my girlfriend, but I'm not, I'm thinking "If we beat Fulham on Saturday we're top in April. TOP!"

Then I see my friends. They have a look which is familiar. It's in their eyes. They are going through the same thing. And their feelings are screaming at me "Beat Fulham on Saturday we're top in April. TOP!"

I'm a nervous wreck. I find myself staring at fixture lists. To some it's nothing more than a piece of paper with teams and dates, but those teams and those dates mean everything. Everything.

"We should beat Arsenal. And Tottenham. And Hull. United could slip up against Arsenal. Or Tottenham. Or Hull!"

Then in the modern era of technology and news at your request there is the added tonic of Internet sites and Sky Sports News. Everyone can have their say on forums which only makes my anxiety worse. Everyone has their soap box to shout their opinions. No longer is it solely the Evening copy of the Echo to rely on.

People think I'm dazed. But I'm not. My eyes are fixed on the right hand side of the television. Sky Sports News. The Premiership Table. And their it is. Manchester United followed by Liverpool. And just one point separates them. One point. One single point.

The international break has allowed United time to regroup and interrupted our rich vein of form, but even whilst watching different countries the same thought is stalking my mind. I want our lads to be wrapped in cotton wool and arrive at Melwood safe, and in the same thought I'm hoping the Manchester United players arrive at Alex Fergusons next training session in plaster casts and on crutches.

People may frown at the above sentence, but those who are stalked by the chance to be English Champions will know exactly what's going on inside my head.

And now we have a chance, we are relying on more slip ups from the side we're chasing. But we have a chance.

Beat. Fulham. On. Saturday. And. We. Are. Top. In. April. Top!

So Rafa, I can see by the smile on you're face, you're not cracking up, but catching up.

And me? Well regardless of the outcome, I'll be going through it all again in August.