I am totally gutted today, and wouldn't have it any other way.
To paraphrase De Niro in the Untouchables, when you are young you are expected to have enthusiasms... enthusiasms... enthusiasms... but people keep telling you that when you grow up these things won't be so important to you. For example, when I was in my late teens and wildly enthusiastic about extreme metal music, my parents always assured me it was a "phase" that I would "grow out of". I'm sure that my passionate support of Liverpool and Carlton (Aussie Rules) was also expected to fade into a minor diversion. But even in my 40th year and with an infant son and wife (who remains oblivious to the allure of all my aforementioned passions), I still crank the black metal CDs in my car as I agonise over Liverpool fucking up against the division's bottom side. And I am glad I feel this way. Am I enjoying football right at this instant? No, but I value this feeling of desolation. As we get older, more jaded and more isolated, it's great to have these strong feelings to remind me I'm alive.