stoppage time.

i wonder how many journalists yesterday at anfield were sitting in the press box in the dying seconds of the match, waxing lyrical on their keyboards about yet another dreary arsenal bore-draw performance and yet another tenacious display from liverpool and their talismanic (to borrow an expression) captain steven gerrard, only to look up in response to a huge roar, at a jubilant neil mellor wheeling away from the penalty box celebrating a stunning last-gasp goal against arsenal. then i wonder what they were going to do with their match reports, which have thus been rendered as nothing more than moot.

i can imagine a few red faces glaring out through those glass windows, simultaneously muttering a single word with the straightest face possible. (a la harold from harold and kumar)

f*ck.