[theo_luddite]

So, it was my worst nightmare. I'd just moved to Canada at Easter and Town get to Wembley. Having seen us lose to Swansea in the Broken Windscreen Trophy I was aching to get back for this one. The plan was hatched to fly back over the pond on Friday or Saturday night, meet up with my mates at Wembley and get the first available flight back - which likely would have been a Monday morning flight at the time, as I don't think there was anything late enough out of Heathrow or Gatwick straight after the match.

Two slight problems, one minor, one major. That weekend was not one that Canada celebrates as a "long weekend", so I'd have been asking for a day off less than a couple of months after arriving. Probably do-able but I wouldn't have got much more than a day off at the time.

The major one was my mum. Now I'd royally pissed her off when I'd moved to Wolverhampton 7 years previous, so you can imagine she was a little less than chuffed with me when I announced at the end of January I'd been offered a job on t'other side o't'pond. There was no way I was going to get away with flying "home" and not popping in to see my mum. Logistically, even trying to get a flight back out of Manchester - just about do-able but being a Bank Holiday, trains and buses were on Sunday timetables and even a 10-15 minute delay or a cancellation would have screwed things up royally. The chances of not being forgiven if I did fly in, stay in London and just see the game - too high to risk and my conscience finally won the day.

So that Sunday morning I was back trying to get Real Player to work its magic again and not fall apart on me. Fortunately it worked and I washed my breakfast down with a bottle (or several) of local ale (none of that Labatts or Molson rubbish). Likely Upper Canada Dark Ale at the time. My mum and her sister came over to visit later that summer and I never said a word about my dream of a missed Wembley weekend to her.