Photograph: Ludvig Thunman/Bildbyrån/Shutterstock
I’ve found another way of ruining sport for myself. I thought I’d explored every means of turning the stress dial up to 11, but now I’ve chanced on a new method. I must need the anxiety to feel alive.
I go back a long way with this kind of thing. I’ve never been able to watch a sporting contest without picking a team or a person to root for. It started when I was about five. I idolised my grandad and because he wanted West Brom to win, I wanted it too. This kind of thing is habit-forming, and perhaps not entirely healthy. I thought I’d grow out of it, but it’s getting worse. And it has gone far beyond my own football team.
