With hindsight I should have gone with my original plan and opted for a game of water polo in the swimming pool but, try as I might, I just can't switch off from football that easily when there is a massive cinema screen in the hotel and Spanish television are showing Newcastle against Arsenal live at three in the afternoon.
Yes, that's right, I'm on holiday on the sun-drenched Spanish island of Tenerife, relaxing on a sun lounger, enjoying the all inclusive food and drink and attempting to forget about the trials and tribulations of the end of season run in.
Sadly, despite my best intentions, I simply can't manage to ignore it. No matter how hot the sun, how annoying the screaming kids, how gripping the book and how attractive the views around the pool my mind kept drifting to events at St James's Park.
So, instead of a water polo tussle with some middle-aged men and out-of-their depth kids, I sloped away to watch the match indoors. I wish I hadn't bothered. Elbowing a bearded German and drowning an annoying English teenager while trying to throw a ball into a small net at the other side of the pool would have been far more enjoyable
First things first, a point against a side of Arsenal's reputation is a decent result for Glenn Roeder's men and, coupled with the win at Sheffied United on Saturday, means the Magpies, excluding a series of freak results below them in the Premiership, will be playing Premiership football next season. Hurrah, no more talk of relegation battles and so on....
But, unless something was lost in translation - the commentary was in Spanish but I'm pretty certain the images beamed across to the middle of the Atlantic ocean were the same - it was a diabolical game of football.
Watching Newcastle struggle to string a passing move together has become all too familiar recently, but Arsenal were terrible. So much for Arsene Wenger's Young Guns, on this evidence they are about as likely to challenge for the Premiership next season as Newcastle!
There wasn't a first touch in sight, just a second and third as the ball pinged backwards and forwards between the two sides. I couldn't understand a word the commentators were saying - look I wasn't very good at languages at school and, anyway, I studied German, so there - but the tone in their voices said it all. They only got excited when they said James Milner's name - pronounced Jemmes Miilllllllllneeeeeeeer - although why I'm not sure because all he did was hit the crossbar with a mis-hit cross in the second half.
As one holiday maker remarked behind me - an unfeasibly loud West Ham fan with burnt shoulders and the British holidaymaker must have accessory of the summer, a beer gut - "It's about as exciting as watching paint dry.
In normal circumstances, I'd have turned round and wished the Hammers all the best in the Championship next season, but he was right! Never mind, I suppose, a point's a point, there is an injury to Shay Given to talk about, as well as Damien Duff's poor finishing, Kieron Dyer's loss of form and Nolberto Solano's magnificent goal-line clearance.
Although I won't be talking about any of it. Nope I'm forgetting all about football until I land in Newcastle on Friday.... 90 minutes later I was back on my sun lounger, sweating and sipping San Miguel while turning my usual shade of brownish pink. Good times!
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