I presume this is the bit where everyone tries to outdo each other with exagerated anecdotes of how they reacted to the winner.
Can I have a go?
When the ball crossed the line I threw myself on the ground, beating my head repeatedly, screaming "Thank you god" six times. Then, involuntarily, I tore all the arteries directly from my wrist so the blood sprayed all of us red. And I roared "Fuck off you red bastard!" at the blood three times, before great tears poured down my face. I then, in a blur of blood and tears, raced out of the stadium, did a full lap and just got back into my seat for the trophy presentation. At that point I was speaking in tongues and had somehow lost all of my clothes but my socks. I didn't care. That night I left my wife and went to live in Outer Mongolia smoking heroin and watching reruns of the game on an old video recorder. That's how much of a blue I am.