Examine my sleeve as closely as you will: you’ll never find my heart on it.

I’m not, by nature, particularly demonstrative. This doesn’t mean I lack feelings (far from it), simply that making a fuss – thereby, shock horror, drawing attention to myself – doesn’t come easily, and certainly not naturally.

Now, I’m well aware that being low-key can sometimes be misinterpreted as not giving a damn, so perhaps this latest of ‘365 Days of Writing Prompts’ represents an opportunity to set the record straight:

“Celebrate good times: you receive some wonderful, improbable, hoped-for good news. How do you celebrate?”

It’s been my happy fortune to receive a lot of good news in my life; lots of good things have happened to me – probably most of the things that I’ve hoped for, definitely all the most important ones. But I’ve never felt any compulsion or desire to react by turning cartwheels (not that I could) or whooping loudly and dementedly – you know, like a member of the ‘Oprah’ studio audience who’s just been told that there’s a $5 Walmart voucher underneath their seat.

It’s far more dignified to accept good fortune with good grace and move on.

This isn’t to say that I am always completely passive when something good happens. For the most part, you’ll just have to take my word for that, although I don’t mind sharing the fact that, when it comes to football, one hitting the back of the net for Liverpool will often elicit an impromptu clenched fist and a “yesss!”,

Nonetheless, I always admired the the more measured response of Liverpool’s former manager, Rafa Benitez, to his team scoring:

And even before he showed the remarkably good sense to sign for Liverpool, I was a fan of some of Mario Balotelli’s more ‘Zen’ goal celebrations – like this one, for example

To be fair to myself, this equanimity works both ways. I ‘m just as phlegmatic when the tidings are bad. This seems quite logical to me. After all, the receipt of bad news tends to require a clear mind to deal most effectively with whatever challenge has just been thrown up. To use examples drawn from life. by being made redundant, say, or learning that your house has just burnt down. Wailing and gnashing of teeth just isn’t going to get the job done.

So I may give the impression of being a miserable git, but deep down I assure you that I’m not. I’m doing no more than Rudyard Kipling would wish of me:

“If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same…

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it”

Seems a reasonable price to pay….