On the previous two occasions I've tried it, I've come unstuck. Does that qualify as blogging hubris or just bastard bad luck? And tonight's final is a bit of a special case in that it is Gazprom poster boys versus R*ngers. A case of the unacceptable face of capitalism versus the unacceptable face of Glasgow's south side.
Bottom line to ask myself is what's the best result tonight for Celtic's outside chance of retaining the SPL title? I can think of three possible scenarios:
Option A R*ngers winning tonight's final, and in their best fashion being consumed by their very own hubris which will result in them coming unstuck against Motherwell and St Mirren in the league. Option B Zenit Saint Petersburg do what they did against Leverkusen and Munich in the previous rounds in tonight's final, and a crestfallen R*ngers trudge back north only to come unstuck against Motherwell, St Mirren, Aberdeen and Queen of the South in the coming weeks. Option C A meteorite hits the middle of the pitch at the City of Manchester Stadium, and Barry Ferguson, David Weir and Nacho Novo fall into the resultant crater. Ferguson is out for the rest of the season with cruciate ligament damage after his knee smashes into Novo's new gnashers. Weir, conscious of the fact that he isn't getting any younger, decides that this is as good a burial plot as any and refuses to leave the crater. He asks that wreaths be sent to Little's Funeral Service Home on the Paisley Road West Road.
The referee decides that his only option is to postpone the game. This despite Walter Smith's protestation that his R*ngers team has never used the middle of any pitch and why should they start now? The new crop of injuries coupled with R*ngers adding to their current backlog of fixtures forces Walter Smith's hand and he has to give Thomas Buffel a game in the season run-in. Rangers come unstuck against Motherwell, St Mirren, Aberdeen and Queen of the South . . . and barn doors the length and breadth of Scotland release a collective sigh of relief.
If it's about Celtic doing the impossible, and snatching championship victory from the jaws of Ibroxian mediocrity, I'll have to go with option a as the best possible scenario.
The blog's hexed ye.