Don't tell me the score...

I was all set for a night in to watch the Republic of Ireland vs. Georgia. Beers in the fridge? Check! lots of food in the house? Check! No big storyline unfolding in Corrie that may cause me to be overruled as to what gets watched on the tell? Check! It was all looking so good but then got roped into working late. No worries I yell,  I'll sky plus it. sweet. Just need to dodge any form of new media until I get home. No looking at text messages for the lads and no listening to the radio on the train home. Ipod on, nose in a book and soon I'm home for about 10pm but none the wiser of the score.

Phone rings as soon as I'm in the door. It's my mum.

"Well, are you chuffed Ireland won?"