League Cup Fourth Round, 09/11/04, 7.45pm
By Dominic Ray
Despite having a ticket, my mate Adam couldn't make the game due to some nonsense about a work commitment. I called him after Dyer's goal and could tell he was fearing the worse by the way he answered the phone. 'One-nil - Dyer,' was my simple message amidst the accompanying din of the Rookery. Maybe he'd heard it '0-1 - dire'. I'm not sure.
Shortly after half-time, I was on the mobile again. 'It's 2-0 and we're playing them off the pitch,' I yelled. Then three! His delight soon turned to annoyance at missing one of 'those' nights. My final call followed H's fine van Basten impression. Adam was beginning to lose his rag in that tortured combination of delight at the score and frustration at not being there, at not being able to witness this completely mad, utterly brilliant performance.
I didn't call again. It was too cruel on the lad.