It had to happen sooner or later. After six years and dozens of smooth flights, I was finally greeted at an airport by the dreaded red letters: Flight Cancelled.

After a hectic twenty minutes, the verdict was in. I could no longer reach Bologna on Saturday. In fact, I probably couldn’t even make the very start of the tournament, let alone be there in time for the whole setting-up period, where you fight with the Internet connection and do exciting stuff like that

I guess I should’ve known. Just hours earlier I had commented that, apart from a misunderstanding that led to “delayed” luggage, all my flights had always worked out perfectly. Lady Luck is always listening, and loves to mess up streaks like this.

As I type this, I should be arriving in Bologna and worrying about finding a taxi. Instead I’m watching Real Sociedad sneak by Sevilla with a late Kovacevic goal in a Barcelona hotel room. Not the best of starts to an event, but hopefully we’ll have things up and running at full steam in no time.