A perfect moment

On Wednesday night, I was to be found at St. James' Park, Newcastle, taking the opportunity to get a rare glimpse with my own eyes of the Manchester United side chasing the quintuple. They didn't disappoint, with Fergie putting out a full strength side which needed to put in a decent effort to defeat a spirited home side which unfortunately lacked quality to go with the guts they put on display. By the final whistle, I had witnessed the skills of Ronaldo, the guile of Berbatov and the incredible work rate and genius of Wayne Rooney, the new holder of the award for "best player I have ever seen in the flesh".

By the final whistle, though, I didn't give a flying damn about what was going on in front of me. Because my mobile phone had been inundated with messages about a certain goings-on at Ibrox.

Caley had only gone and fecking beaten Rangers. In their backyard. Un. Be. Flipping. Liev. Able.

The previous time we had done the Huns (that rhymes, I like that) on their own patch, I had gone to a Middlesbrough-Everton game instead. The next time we play them away, I will again have to find an English match to be at!

What this means, apart from massive kudos and the opportunity to abuse many bluenoses who I count as friends (an opportunity I have not wasted), is that, for the first time since I put an SPL table on this site, ICT are not rock bottom. Now not only are Falkirk very much in the cack, St. Mirren and Kilmarnock are now dipping their toes in it as well. A situation which looked doomed six weeks ago is now looking rather more rosy indeed.

Still ten games to go, though, plenty of time for things to go completely down the pan, starting with our next three league games - Kilmarnock (home), Falkirk (away) and St. Mirren (home). Doom and gloom could yet be inflicted on us again.

But right now I would rather look back to about 10:30 last night, when I leant on a wall beside Newcastle's Millennium Bridge, which was all lit up in green, while I tucked into a sausage supper with white, numbed fingers. I recalled the game I'd been to and the other one, the one that ultimately meant so much more, and I smiled to myself as a thought crossed my mind: it really cannot get better than this, can it?

If, for a football fan, that is not a perfect moment, then I don't know what is.

Happy days.

L.