Now that the season is all but done with and the dust has just about settled, sometimes you just can’t help but take a nostalgic trip down memory lane. And perhaps ask yourself what happened to get us from there to now?
Gary Neville’s recent comments sparked a debate with fans. The treble winner (remember those days *sob*) remarked that in his playing days him and his teammates wouldn’t dare be seen out enjoying themselves after a defeat or dip in form. Which is absolutely his right to say. Nobody knows better than those right in the heart of it. Some agreed and said players just don’t seem to care as much in the present. While others, on the contrary, said that many a wild time or controversy happened back then too. Albeit perhaps not always as publicly as the modern era with a continuous stream of stories in the press and social media daily.
Of course we heard about the infamous hairdryer treatment from the man I grew up watching manage Manchester United during those such times. So a lack of discipline could well play a part. Or you could argue behind the scenes there is an element of disappointment and ask who are we to judge how others live their lives?
My honest opinion. I don’t care. I don’t care if somebody wants to post a picture of their new hair cut or spending quality time with their family. I’d rather not endure the de ja vu of the apologies and we go again posts after every disappointment. But that’s up to me to control what I look at and follow. What I do care about however is what happens on the pitch. Do your talking there and I will listen. It’s as simple as that.
As heartbreaking as it may be, Old Trafford isn’t the fortress it once was right now. Expectations are low and like a pick and mix bag, you never know what you’re getting with this team. The good times are wonderful, maybe even more so now. But the instability is ever apparent.
No. What matters to me is the football. And to be blunt, this season has not been good enough. Looking back to a sunny August day when I pinched myself being back at the theatre of dreams seems a world away now. Raphael Varane walking out in a suit proudly holding his new club’s shirt, a Bruno Fernandes hat-trick and a triumphant but admittedly not the most difficult win against Leeds United.
It’s crazy to think now, only in March, we have seen the parting of ways between Manchester United and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, Michael Carrick step in that role momentarily until Ralf Rangnick take charge and most recently our Champion’s League exit. This confirming another season without a trophy.
And now we are left with nothing to fight for apart from top four, and even that is looking more unlikely with the race as tight as ever and others having games in hand.
Although I sincerely hope we don’t see a lifeless United just cautiously tip toe our way to May. Falling in love with football for me was simply that. The game itself. So, it would mean something at least to see some grit and entertaining football.
Supporters before me have seen the worst of times before the majestic era I watched as a kid and young adult. It could be a lot worse. It could be a lot better. It is apparent so much has to change from top to bottom. The owners are as out of touch as they’ve ever been, if not more. There are glaringly obvious areas we need to improve come transfer season. And those in the squad with injuries and age not on their side that don’t have time on their side. And whilst I respect the effort that Ralf has made, we still don’t know going forward who will be at the helm. So there is an element of uncertainty, a constant loop of stories written of course and we are living in the age where players are judged instantly and they’re only human ultimately.
It might well be the hope that kills you. But it’s also what keeps you alive. That little voice saying don’t give up. In life and in football. And that is all I ask for. The rest is simply noise.
Yes. We have a history in this club which I will always think fondly of, but it would be something magic if we used that to make a solid future too. Come what may, I love this club and I always will. It’s not the end. It never is. There is always room for one more chapter. And no time limit for it.
unitedshestands 