Nowadays, very little disrupts my sleeping routine. In the past five years or so, my routine is to retire for bed at 12.30 a.m. at the latest unless there is something urgent concerning health or family matters to attend to. Not even football can persuade me to stay up and watch 22 men play with a ball in a field. I really do need my beauty sleep. It's such a precious commodity.
And so it was too last night. I slept at 12.30 a.m. but then at four o'clock in the morning, I was suddenly wide awake. No matter how I tossed and turned, sleep could not come back to me. In resignation, I knew that at the back of my mind, there must have been a tinge of regret in not staying up to watch the football game between Manchester United and Norwich City. It was the first game with Ryan Giggs in charge as the interim manager and I chose to sleep. And thus, missed it.
I reached out for the iPad and went to the sports section of The Guardian and the Manchester Evening News. Read the headlines: a 4-0 win against Norwich. Eagerly poured over all the news reports and looked over the pictures. The stadium erupting in adulation for a true son of Manchester United. Having satisfied myself with that, I tried to go back to sleep. But it was not until past six o'clock that I managed to nod off until about eight in the morning.
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