Gutted to Tears Pt. 1

The seconds ticked away agonizingly. United fans sang louder and louder. We played a good game but it wasn’t good enough – the common theme to many people for this season. We crossed into injury time. I was still hopeful of snatching it. I wanted to ruin their day if not their season.

It wasn’t meant to be.

I watched the screen with no more hatred than usual for either Taggart or United fans. I had Arsenal on my mind. I have Arsenal on my mind. Arsenal is always on my mind.

For a moment I felt numb. Save the liquid emotion welling up in my eyes, I was a statue of flesh, bone, blood, and anguish. Making my way out of the pub was nothing short of painful. They rejoiced. I receded.

The only solace I have today is that millions of United supporters are battling massive hangovers as I type. But as stated previously, I have Arsenal to think about. My club is paramount.

On my way home I saw a familiar face in an Arsenal top. He looked down and was looking down and I felt down. I shouted to him to keep his head up, that we’ll be back next season. We’ll be back more determined, hungrier, wiser, better equipped, fitter, stronger, more focused. Another difficult season ends but let’s be clear, we have a group of young players who will improve. People forget that not winning when you’re young doesn’t mean that you are shit and will never do. It means that you perhaps haven’t mastered your craft or that someone else is better at the moment.



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