Last season I fell out of love with the game. Watching United finish second and not winning trophy was difficult, but it wasn’t the reason I fell out of love.
I fell out of love because of the ever growing negativity that engulfed the club and it’s fans. “End of an era”, “We haven’t replaced Roy Keane”, “Fergie’s losing it”, “We have no midfield”, “United have been very poor” and etc. These were things that I heard on so many occasions last season and it grew tiring. I couldn’t watch a fans phone-in without wanting to throw the remote at the screen. I would sit at my seat at Old Trafford with a clenched fist listening to the moans and groans of the people around me. I started to stop caring.
Yes every now and again I would become passionate, to the point of heated debates with family defending the likes of Danny Welbeck and David de Gea. Overall, I tried to stay away from arguments. Sometimes I would pray that SAF would take off Danny Welbeck so I could get rid of the worries in my stomach in case he made a mistake and I would have to defend him once again.
It all became so fucking tiring. I also had to deal with my Leaving Certificate exams and it was stressful. Yet, I always tried to remain positive and optimistic last season. At first I thought I just trusted our team, but as the season wore on I began to wonder was it due to my lack of passion. I’ve always been pessimistic with regards to United. My optimism was not born out of trust, but out of lack of interest.
I understand that fans will always romanticize a club’s past, but that doesn’t mean we should live in it. Instead of complaining about the team we don’t have and harboring on about the team we should have, how about we start supporting the team right in front of us now?
I may have fallen out of love, but last season’s finale was still absolute agony. I remember being slumped into my chair, unable to move for ten minutes after Aguero’s winner for City. It still didn’t ignite my passion.
I’ve grown to accept that in the last few seasons I’ve become less passionate. I’m no longer a thirteen year old boy who’s only hobby was to watch Manchester United. For a couple of seasons I could tell you who scored for United in every single game. Not only would I watch the match live, but I would watch MOTD and Goals on Sunday and re-watch the match if possible.
These days I have other interests in my life, but football has always been an obsession, a beautiful drug. However, I was worrying about how I no longer got my ‘fix’ off United.
Gradually, as the summer wore on I began to yearn United. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” kind of deal. I was desperate to take my seat back in Old Trafford and watch our boys play. I also got my writing itch back and couldn’t wait to return to the blog.
Then the moment came. I told my Father that I thought United would beat Everton, while deep down I expected a draw. The pessimism was back. My love of football is back and I’m determined to make this blog great.
Let’s do this.