Boy, I'm looking forward to tonight's play-off for third. For 80 minutes, I'll have something to take my mind off the weekend's other encounter.
While the Welsh and Wallabies go at it, I'll enjoy the rugby and try to forget about the jitters that took hold not long after the All Blacks played so well last Sunday night.
We could be pretty pleased with that semifinal win. But for me the happy glow began to cool on the walk back from Eden Park up Bond St, past a house with giant speakers and a crowd in the front yard, all blasting out Queen's anthem We Are the Champions.
What is wrong with these people?
I felt like sticking my fingers in my ears and shouting "la-la-la-la-la-la ..." in an attempt to nullify the challenge they had laid at fate's door.