Another One Bites the Dust
So, yeah. Watched the game yesterday. Or, well, bits of it. Had some stuff I needed to get done around the house first. You know how it is, weekend chores pile up.
Anyway, finally sat down, got the telly on. Had a cuppa brewing. Thought, okay, let’s see what happens. Wasn’t expecting miracles, if I’m honest. Been watching them long enough, you sort of learn to manage expectations, right?
Started off okay, I guess. Some back and forth. But you could kinda feel it, couldn’t you? That sense of… well, not quite clicking. Passes going astray, that sort of thing. Seen it all before, many times.
Then it happened. The first goal against us. Sighed. Shook my head. Took a sip of tea. It wasn’t even a great goal, just sloppy defending. That’s what gets you, isn’t it? The silly mistakes.
I kept watching for a bit longer. Fiddled with my phone, checked the news headlines. The usual distractions when things aren’t going well on the pitch.
- Missed chances for us.
- More pressure from them.
- Another goal conceded.
At that point, I pretty much knew how it was going to end. Didn’t even feel angry, just… tired. Resigned to it. It’s become a familiar feeling lately, hasn’t it?
Finished my tea. Turned the TV off before the final whistle, actually. Couldn’t be bothered seeing the replays or the analysis. What’s the point? It was another Man U loss. Nothing new to see there.
Went back to sorting out those bits and pieces I was doing earlier. Probably more productive, really. Still, you watch again next time, don’t you? Habit, I suppose. Or maybe just hoping it’ll be different. Usually isn’t, though.
