Paying the penalty

The fact that this no!-my-eyes, small-bit-of-sick-in-your-mouth image exists is, I am afraid, my fault.

I was out last night, and only got back for the very end of extra time in the Champions League Final. As I twisted and twitched my way through my usual routine of not quite bearing to be in the same room as a penalty shootout, but not wanting to totally miss it either, I managed to see Ronaldo not-scoring. 'Ha!' I thought. 'I don't even care if Manchester United win now, because that punchable little stoat has missed.' This was obviously an enormous untruth, because in the end I cared very much, in a deeply negative way, that Manchester United won, being a big non-fan. And I was punished by karma slapping me hard across the face, both for my falsehood and my utter lack of charity. Not to mention my prodigious ability to bear a grudge.

I have learnt an extremely sobering lesson about not taking joy in another person's misfortunes, even if they are Cristiano Ronaldo's, and also being careful what you wish for. I am today a chastened correspondant.