I'm getting a bit long in the tooth to feel like this!
I got up at 615 this morning to begin the journey to Sussex, and felt the same pang of nerves I've felt for the past few days. They've been building up for a while; as our winning run extended, I was gripped by a desperate desire that it should remain intact until today. I wanted us to have all the momentum we could muster by the time we hit the Crawley double-header.
And we did it. Now, we have to keep that self-belief going for another three hours.
My nerves remind me of our last visit to Old Trafford, appropriately enough considering Crawley's next opponents! I remember sitting in the car park before the game, feeling absolutely terrified! Part of me was scared of the national humiliation that Alex Ferguson's side might inflict upon us; part of me was thrilled at the thought of us bloodying his nose.
I'm not going to try to hide my dislike of Manchester United; I just can't help it, it's in my blood! The thought of us actually beating them tapped into something deep inside, and made ne feel as petrified as I've ever done about footy. Until now.
I feel something similar; not quite as intense, but definitely different from my normal Saturday morning sensation (which is usally a mixture of preparing myself for the worst and anticipating TV Burp!) I think the similarity is partly down to the unusual nature of the fixture lists; a double header with one of our rivals, just when we're hitting our stride, is too nerve-jangling to be true!
However, I think there's a much bigger reason for these sensations. We had to plumb the depths to do it, but Wrexham have finally found me an adversary I dislike even more than Sir Alex and his churlish charges!