Watching football without a drink was once unthinkable. Then again, there were all sorts of things I wouldn’t have countenanced without the benefit of alcohol: going to a wedding, say; or any party; or any kind of date. The list was long. The length of your list is as good a way as any of gauging your dependence on alcohol. I never got to the stage of needing a drink to go to the shops, but I was most definitely at the stage when an evening with a dear friend wouldn’t hold much appeal if there wasn’t going to be drink involved.
I’d go to all sorts of trouble to facilitate pre-match drinking. I’d always try to take the train rather than drive to matches, a case of doing the right thing environmentally, but for the wrong reasons. Good for the carbon footprint, bad for my liver. It became incredibly important to speed-drink a couple of quarts of beer in some pub or other, a pre-match ritual that wasn’t for tinkering around with.
