I remember everything so clearly from that day. Waking up, opening a bottle of champagne for breakfast, traveling to the ground, bumping into some mates I’d been to some away games with in during the league 1 days.... jumping around like a nutter in the concourse before the game, singing and crying... then walking up to my seat and feeling like I was having an out of body experience in anticipation for the trophy presentation. Disbelief, almost wishing away the 90 minutes. Crying again when Kingy scored.
I still can’t believe it happened. In idle moments I still catch myself thinking about the sheer romance and impossibility of it all. The thought that Robert Huth and Marc Albrighton could deliver a Premier League title by 10 clear points...
It still doesn’t feel real.