We are [temporarily] top of the league

Well, that was, and wasn't, and then was fun again

That's why you have to watch sport live and in full or, really, accept a thoroughly degraded experience: knowing the result sucks away the tension that real-time involvement provides, and watching someone else's idea of the cut-away important parts can never tell the whole story, particularly as the editing, Match of the Day style, is too often real simplistic lowest common plastic pretend fan potato stuff.

Specifically, by way of example, and here's an ideal opportunity to say:

“We are [albeit, inevitably, temporarily],

top of the league [although with a squad inferior to that of Citeh and Chavski],

we are top of the league.”

Aston Villa 1 v 2 Arsenal

First of all, we lost to these, at home, on the opening day of the season, and they've been absolutely rubbish ever since. So what've they got against us? We owed them a spanking and in the end delivered a narrow defeat.

There were distinct phases to the game. We looked good, dominant, with them looking (very) infrequently dangerous on the break. This creates tension, and a game you can't look away from. When...

...all that routine, tedious, boring, rubbish is cleared from the brain. Although it is far from relaxing, numbing, or comforting (the sort of release I assume is provided by, say, jigsaw puzzles, rocking back and forth in a chair wearing a hospital-issue nightdress, or watching dreary reality television (here I admit to not differentiating from watching, say Peter Andre or Celebs Dancing Strictly for the Saturday Night Sofa-Bound, and being sedated in a One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest scenario, albeit by the BBC)) it is engrossing, nerve-tingling, and impossible to tear yourself away from...

...and then, two goals within a minute on the match-clock, and, to be honest, from my seat in front of a laptop computer view, there was a 60 / 40 probability of a third, and then...

...the big (inevitable) comeback, sparked by a misplaced pass leading to a consolation (as it turned out) goal, 1 – 2, and then they 'pressed'...

...pressing meaning hoofing the ball upfield and hoping for the best, which was repelled by determined defending by us which meant...

...winning the first header, and then hoofing the ball up their end.

All of which ended up in a breathless, unconvincing, un-league-winning-crenditial-endorsing performance that saw us go back to the top of the league on a Monday night. It was magic. Tension, release, more, almost unbearable tension, and a nail-biting finale.

That's sport, it isn't entertainment, or a diversion, or a business, unless you don't fully understand.

There's plenty about that don't (fully or partially) understand (and who want their say in the media).