Some things are just not right. Like Barca's fluoro pink away strip (wake me up before you go-go, Lionel) and Sherlock Holmes played by an American, the Mariners not making the finals is simply unthinkable.
Okay, so it's happened once before, but that was some kind of aberration. We always make the finals: that's a given. Consistency is what the club stands for and what the fans expect. The thought of watching the finals this year as some kind of neutral spectator is much too painful to contemplate.
If I sound somewhat hysterical that's because January has become the cruellest month for A-League supporters. Just when we should be sitting on a beach, catching up with friends or hanging out at festivals, our relaxation time is dominated by Team End-of-Season Anxiety ( or TESA, as it's become known to counsellors). A common affliction noticed in EPL fans every Easter, TESA has now become widespread in the Australian football community every summer.
It's an affliction that strips away every shred of human dignity and takes over every waking moment. One minute we're talking to someone at a festival bar, next minute we get a glazed look in our eyes as we notice the barman looks like Matt Simon. Without warning we drift off into A-League Land, where endless replays of Matt's recent shots on goal haunt us.
"Hey Matt," we shout to the baffled barman, "you just gotta score this weekend."
"Yeah," he says, "I usually do. One of the perks of the job."
Furtively, we check the internet numerous times a day for updates on team injuries, worrying more about our defender's groin strain than we do about our own bank balance. We watch our upcoming opponents' performances like a hawk, analysing their current form and rejoicing in any perceived signs of weakness.
"Oh yesss ! Another yellow ! He'll be out next week - jackpot !"
Then there's the ridiculous mental arithmetic we struggle with trying to work out how many points are needed to claw our way up the ladder. Just like the January sales, there's a limited amount of points on offer and if we have to kick a few people in the shins to grab them first - so be it.
TESA is an embarrassing condition but the comforting thing is : you are not alone. That's why every waking hour this week like other sufferers, I'll be thinking about my team. I'll be worrying about Chris Doig's fitness and hoping that Heff can repeat his sparkling performance against Adelaide. He made an outstanding contribution in Kuwait and backed it up with an impressive display against Fury a mere 48 hours later, even attempting a bit of Kaka spin. (Pim should consider him as a World Cup wildcard and we all know Vukes would have saved that second Kuwait goal.)
So as I stand around the barbeque while on holidays, I'll be weighing up whether Smeltz's heartbreaking goal against Adelaide is more likely to fire them up or bring them down. Then I'll be walking along the beach at night contemplating the cold fact that we haven't scored against The Reds this season, although our away form has been good. I'll be drinking champagne in the sun and imagining a dream debut for young newcomer Jonathan Brown, if only his visa gets approved in time (doesn't "football emergency" count as compassionate grounds ?)
But mostly I'll just be gazing absent-mindedly into the summer sky and sending whatever positive thoughts I can to push my team over the line. Pathetic, isn't it ? There is no known cure, although winning brings temporary relief of symptoms.
We must win this week and if we can come out fighting like we did against Fury, I believe we will. This is surely a true test of character and it's a test I expect the Mariners to face with confidence and pride. If we win we will be back in the mix and the stage will be set for a great home game with Gold Coast. To lose or even draw would be as painful as hearing "Elementary, my dear Watson" with a New York accent.
