So it's finally over - all the weeks and months of fretting about whether the beloved boys in blue would win that coveted 4th spot in the Premier League and thus an automatic place in the Champions League qualifiers for next season.
At long last all the hype, all the tension, all the sleepless nights, all the bitten nails, the outrageous hopes, the unrealistic dreams, the frustrations, the high, the lows, the queasy tummies..........it's over, finished and gone for another few months at least.
And am I distraught and depressed? Frankly, no. When Spurs scored in the 84th minute of the game last night to seal their grip on that 4th place I was indeed utterly dejected and disappointed. However, less than 24 hours on my principal feeling is one of release. Release from having to be concerned about it, freedom not to have it looming large every weekend as we searched desperately for the points.
It has been a generally positive season. The lure of silverware eluded us yet again but maybe one more year won't matter after 34 years without winning anything.
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