The pen was poised (pen? How quaint?) ready to inform you all that I detest the FA Cup and being knocked out is a bonus cos we are not going to win the jug eared piece of silverware. Not now. Not next year, not ever.
The aim of the season is to obtain promotion, anything else is like a trip to Amsterdam, a minor distraction and a bit of fun. In fact I think I'm still banned from Amsterdam after my last visit. I discovered that there was actually no need to go inside the buildings with the funny red lights in order to achieve satisfaction. Unfortunately according to the nice friendly policeman the local window cleaner did not experience the same amount of pleasure as I had.
However the FA Cup occasionally throws up a match that sticks in the memory for a long time, for example Blues v Man City, Blues v Fulham, Blues v Liverpool, Blues v Wrexham, Blues v Watford, etc etc you get the drift.
The general consensus was that the Toon Army would bang at least three past a hapless Blues and Bruce would come on the BBC and commend the players for their efforts against a huge Premiership team and that the league was priority numero uno.
Five minutes in and I was dancing round the room trying to ignore the niggling calf strain that means I go up stairs like I have crabs (tip: when in Amsterdam go in fully clothed).
Gary McSheffrey has got a left foot like Christy Brown and a right foot. Two feet are good for footballers. His left foot hits the ball like a rocket and his right foot tends to caress the ball into the bottom corners. Pretty lethal stuff. A wonderful talent to have one foot that hits like an American Marine on crack with a Kalashnikov and the other that strikes like an SAS sniper. Have The Netherlands got an army?
Anyway the threat of Desert Storm with the left foot was enough to scare the Toon defence who then succumbed to the Iranian Embassy siege sucker punch with the cultured right foot.
In the past we have all seen the Blues flatter to deceive and probably all believed that it would only be a question of time before Roeder's marauders came back into the game. The truth is though they were the Burkina Faso of the fighting world and we were the NATO elite. We were better in every department. Every single soldier was magnificent and stuck to their task superbly. Brucie would have told them to go out and win their individual battles and not one of them let him or us down.
The score did not flatter and I am sure like me you wanted them to keep going forward even at 5-1. Six or seven would have been magnificent (magnificent seven?) but I guess that's a little bit greedy on our part and we should congratulate the players for keeping the ball and not getting injured chasing a game that was already won.
Can we win the cup? Of course not. Don't be silly. This is the Blues. We would probably get to the semi final and play Accrington Stanley, watch them go down to nine men and throw it away with the last kick of the game. But for now, who cares? We beat a Premiership team on their own ground by five goals to one and it feels fantastic. Smoke and a pancake anyone?
Traditionally we are desperately weak when live on television. Perhaps our players prefer the BBC to Sky. It was with an air of trepidation we approached this week with two matches being played out live to the watching millions. Two fairly important games as well. One is now out of the way and if anything it could provide a major fillip that the team need after a winless start to the new year.
It is vital we go on to beat Leicester who were unfortunate not to beat Fulham in the FA Cup, but it was great that they were dragged into a seven goal full on ninety minute classic. Hopefully they are still knackered on Saturday evening!
I'm so excited that I want to defecate. Therefore in order to retain my popular status in the office I had best go and relieve the feeling.
Keep right on. Be proud, very proud. Who dares wins.