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I talk a good game, but when it comes down to it i'm a quivering mound of jelly. The pivotal second leg of the Chelsea-Arsenal Champions League quarterfinal is going on right now, and my stomach is doing backflips. I've got my email program closed, my cell phone turned off, and my web browser pointed far, far away from anything that might convey a score. Once 2pm rolls around (allowing for extra time and penalties, if necessary), i'll peek through my hands at the result on ChelseaFC.com to get the glorious gloating news or the sugarcoated, let-me-down-easy epitaph.
Pathetic.
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