Another final played today. Another evening spent staring at my computer screen and alternatively, the ceiling, not really noticing them. A rather perceptive person put it beautifully today - our private faces know no restraint. Our public faces, no liberties. 4 years now. Still only 15 games played. Still only 17 goals scored. Still no final. Still no title. Want to know how to do it? Dig yourself a basketball-court sized hole, jump-in (don't spend a moment pondering talent/ability - just dream, dream, dream), gift yourself a tear of the medial meniscus, and don't climb out. Simple.