I’m beginning to believe that I am half human, half owl. As the great Martin Clunes once said: Sleep is for sleepy people. Let’s get a kebab and go to a disco!
I’d like to demand that all England matches kick off in the middle of the night if that Mexico game was anything to go by, but FIFA and its bald-headed Bond villain leader only take direction from deranged incontinent old men in nappies these days. I just don’t have that sort of weight (literally) or a Micky Mouse peace prize to throw behind my demands.
What a cracker of a match it was! I needed the loo midway through the first half and it was Harry Kane’s squeaky post-match interview almost two hours later that made me realise I hadn’t gone in all that time. So, not only was it a victory for the England team, it was also a victory for my bladder (which is another thing me and Trump don’t have in common). What an outstanding performance all round!
For any young kids reading this, it was a masterclass in how to pace an evening with no sleep. Sure, you all think you can make it through the night, but there’s usually a moment when tiredness smacks you in the face like you’re Chris Rock at an awards ceremony. I wasn’t going to let that happen because I had a can of Monster (and Will Smith wasn’t invited).
I need no invitation to stay up late. On any other night I probably would’ve gone to bed as soon as I’d finished watching Haaland beat Brazil 2-1, but on this occasion the night was still young. I was ready for England’s match at 1am (although I watched a couple of episodes of Mid Morning Matters on iPlayer when I realised I had an extra hour to kill).
Never before had I stayed up to watch an England match in the middle of the night. I remember getting up early to watch England draw 0-0 against Nigeria at 6am in the 2002 World Cup. That didn’t feel rewarding, but this did.
There was magic in the air — and I’m not talking about the ghost of Paul Daniels, which I’m convinced has been stalking me since I shared the stage with his son briefly in a Christmas panto back in 2023. The game delivered drama, and then some. You couldn’t catch your breath. There were no lulls in the action to allow for any co-commentators to talk about the time their cat jumped into the back of a postal van, went feral, and had to see out its days living with relatives in Preston.
England might get knocked out in the quarter final because there’s Norway Haaland won’t score against us (lovely gag there), and if they don’t get us then Argentina will in the semis. The smart money’s on Argentina, because that’s where FIFA’s money is.
But whatever happens next, I can always look back on the Mexico match with fondness, and remember the night I never went to bed. I shouldn’t feel this sprightly on just a two-hour nap this morning!