A Nigerian man ran a bus into a crowd of Barcelona fans, killing four and injuring many others. Could he have been so mad or hurt our team lost that he was driven to such a thing? Obviously, some other illness had him long ago and the revelry of the Barca fans was the trigger that was finally pulled in his mind for him to fire off. This is the worst reaction in world that we've heard of, and I am hopeful, this is the only one of its kind.
Yesterday I wrote about losing with dignity and how Manchester United did that on Wednesday when they lost the UEFA Champions League to FC Barcelona. The lads on the team held their heads high, their shoulders back, and while their faces looked grim, they respectfully shook hands with the dignitaries on the platform as they accepted their medals. One of them was their own future King, His Royal Highness Prince William of Wales.
Manchester United are the Royalty of European Football, whether they win or lose, and they proved that in their behavior yesterday. I already went over this in my previous post (read it) but they were very gracious in their compliments of Barcelona's playing.
But how does one go about hurting with dignity? Losing and hurting are different. I know we lost, I handled myself in kind with the team, dignified, graciously. I congratulated people on Twitter who cheered for the other team. I admitted we'd been outplayed. I left it at that and then I wrote my blog, I purged.
But today, I still hurt. My heart aches for the players, Sir Alex, and myself. I'd been so excited to think we could be the first to retain the title, that I had not prepared myself at all for a loss. It came as a shocking blow. I think the news reporters who made predictions that Manchester United would come out on top were just as stunned. But do they hurt the way we fans do?
Last night, I went to see a friend's kids play soccer and when I first arrived, I was yelling at the players to "cover up the hole, Defense! Get in place! Guard your keeper! Get the ball back, drive it up the middle!" Twenty minutes into the game I looked out from under my umbrella and saw the parents' of the players' staring at me like I was insane. I'd forgotten this wasn't a pro game and I wasn't yelling at the TV, these were kids. I remembered I can't behave at a teenage soccer game they way I do at home, or at the pub.
I felt deflated all over again when I realized that what I was doing in my mind, was guiding Manchester United to a win. I was trying to re-orchestrate the game we'd lost, to a better outcome. As it happened, the kids won 2-0 and they made it to their playoffs. Ironic, huh? They turned out to be Barcelona and the other guys were Manchester United.
As happy as I was for them, I still felt the dull ache of a spoon in my heart. Our Red Devils lost and I've been in a depressed fog ever since. I have so many friends on Twitter across the world, literally everywhere on the globe that feel the same way. We're still stunned and hurting. I only hope that as we all hurt, we are all doing it with respect to the winners, and with the dignity our team showed when they lost. If we're going to be fans of the Royalty of Europe, perhaps conducting ourselves in their image would do us good. Hold our heads high, keep our shoulders back, compliment the other guys. Admit we were outplayed that one night. Next season, when we win, we'll be gracious winners and tell the losers, you tried hard, good luck in your next game. Because when we win, we have to do that with class and dignity, too.
The Nigerian man who drove a bus into a crowd killing four people is not the kind of fan we want to identify with and not the kind we want to claim as one of our own. He's not a member of our club, we'd never teach him the secret handshake.
Instead, we'll get over our hurt, slowly but dignified. Because that's the kind of fans we are. Classy. Just like the players, gracious. Royalty.
Glory, Glory Man United! We'll be here, waiting for you next season!
Yesterday I wrote about losing with dignity and how Manchester United did that on Wednesday when they lost the UEFA Champions League to FC Barcelona. The lads on the team held their heads high, their shoulders back, and while their faces looked grim, they respectfully shook hands with the dignitaries on the platform as they accepted their medals. One of them was their own future King, His Royal Highness Prince William of Wales.
Manchester United are the Royalty of European Football, whether they win or lose, and they proved that in their behavior yesterday. I already went over this in my previous post (read it) but they were very gracious in their compliments of Barcelona's playing.
But how does one go about hurting with dignity? Losing and hurting are different. I know we lost, I handled myself in kind with the team, dignified, graciously. I congratulated people on Twitter who cheered for the other team. I admitted we'd been outplayed. I left it at that and then I wrote my blog, I purged.
But today, I still hurt. My heart aches for the players, Sir Alex, and myself. I'd been so excited to think we could be the first to retain the title, that I had not prepared myself at all for a loss. It came as a shocking blow. I think the news reporters who made predictions that Manchester United would come out on top were just as stunned. But do they hurt the way we fans do?
Last night, I went to see a friend's kids play soccer and when I first arrived, I was yelling at the players to "cover up the hole, Defense! Get in place! Guard your keeper! Get the ball back, drive it up the middle!" Twenty minutes into the game I looked out from under my umbrella and saw the parents' of the players' staring at me like I was insane. I'd forgotten this wasn't a pro game and I wasn't yelling at the TV, these were kids. I remembered I can't behave at a teenage soccer game they way I do at home, or at the pub.
I felt deflated all over again when I realized that what I was doing in my mind, was guiding Manchester United to a win. I was trying to re-orchestrate the game we'd lost, to a better outcome. As it happened, the kids won 2-0 and they made it to their playoffs. Ironic, huh? They turned out to be Barcelona and the other guys were Manchester United.
As happy as I was for them, I still felt the dull ache of a spoon in my heart. Our Red Devils lost and I've been in a depressed fog ever since. I have so many friends on Twitter across the world, literally everywhere on the globe that feel the same way. We're still stunned and hurting. I only hope that as we all hurt, we are all doing it with respect to the winners, and with the dignity our team showed when they lost. If we're going to be fans of the Royalty of Europe, perhaps conducting ourselves in their image would do us good. Hold our heads high, keep our shoulders back, compliment the other guys. Admit we were outplayed that one night. Next season, when we win, we'll be gracious winners and tell the losers, you tried hard, good luck in your next game. Because when we win, we have to do that with class and dignity, too.
The Nigerian man who drove a bus into a crowd killing four people is not the kind of fan we want to identify with and not the kind we want to claim as one of our own. He's not a member of our club, we'd never teach him the secret handshake.
Instead, we'll get over our hurt, slowly but dignified. Because that's the kind of fans we are. Classy. Just like the players, gracious. Royalty.
Glory, Glory Man United! We'll be here, waiting for you next season!
No comments:
Post a Comment