10:26am Friday 1st May 2009
MY life at weekends has taken on a nerve-wracking turn after I signed up to receiving football goal alert texts for Wycombe and Tottenham on my mobile telephone.
At 10p per text, it sounded sensible, but it is probably one of the singularly most annoying things I have ever inflicted upon myself.
For those who don’t know, the phone emits a startling beep whenever a goal goes in, either for or against your team.
The theory is that wherever you are in the world, you immediately cut to the heart of the action without needing to watch the match.
And it sounds a splendid idea, especially for someone such as me who is normally out shopping or working whenever a weekend or night match is played.
In the olden days, I used to join the other soccer saddos and gather around outside the nearest television shop in whatever High Street I was in at the time to watch the teleprinter scores come in at final whistle.
Now there is no need, because of the magical texts.
So it should be brilliant – but it’s actually appalling, because you end up walking around tormented during games waiting for the beep to suddenly sound. And when it does go off, I jump ten feet in the air in shock every time, and then tremble as I look to see whether the goal has gone in for or against us.
On Saturday afternoons if you see me out in High Wycombe, I am invariably holding my phone close to me, waiting for the latest alert.
This Saturday was actually quite good for a change. We were in a clothes shop and Wycombe Wanderers were 1-0 down with 12 minutes left.
Suddenly the phone beeped. I jumped in the air with shock, before peeking at the text.
“Goal Wycombe”, it roared, and I joined my son in a high five at the crucial equaliser which took the Blues a step closer to promotion.
But later that night, the goal alerts threatened to ruin our dinner. We were out at a restaurant in Wycombe when the phone beeped twice in quick succession.
It was 2-0 to Tottenham away at Manchester United. I told Mrs Editor’s Chair that it didn’t matter, because Man U would come back and beat us.
She replied there was a black cloud over my head and I shouldn’t be so stupidly pessimistic.
But I know the natural order of football and I know my history, which tells me Spurs always lose to United, however many goals they lead by.
It was ruining my meal so I took the inspired decision to turn off the phone entirely. I also ordered my son to stay away from the score until after the final whistle.
And it was a super decision because United then scored five goals in 24 minutes to thrash us. I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I was not to have had the remainder of supper destroyed by a continual stream of news that Spurs had conceded another one.
But previously, I had successive trips to garden centres wrecked by last-minute goals against Tottenham. We were just about to buy a plant or something when, beep, Wigan scored in injury time and I then refused to speak – infuriating a bewildered Mrs Editor’s Chair.
Two-all at Bolton with two minutes remaining and I was buying something at a centre in Beaconsfield when, beep, we had let in another one and lost, and I began stomping around like a madman.
However, I have now discovered a novel way to avoid this misery when Wycombe take on Notts County on Saturday in a match that will decide if they are to be promoted.
I’m going to turn off my phone – and I’m going to actually go to the game instead.
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