And I was so damn sure I could convincingly knock the bull down with just one flick of my left arm. Cogently, too.
Just before you can finish the sentence, "Ohh yay Chelsea drew and here's our chance to go top...", OH WAIT! We slipped up too. And we slipped up rather more awkwardly than them.
(Not as awkward as Sir Alex fielding 4-5-1 though!)
We lost. To Aston Villa. Yes. Aston Villa. Remember last season? ALL THAT DRAMA AND ALL THAT GLORY. None of that this year. No last minute Macheda-To-The-Rescueeeeeeee this time, only an opportunity failed to be seized.
The trying's were there.
The hard work.
The hard passes.
The hard-luck misses OMG let's not go there.
The hard saves.
The hard yellings.
They were all there.
But they were, obviously, anything but enough.
It was frustrating. But this very frustration is so very much a turn-on. Surely I don't mean I want to see United losing, but it's the very loss that always make me a lot more intense. A lot more ardent. A lot more fiery. The kind needed to fight the bull. Yeah.
So what now? We buck the fuck up and win the next game. That's what.
It is a long, long way to go and three points behind Chelsea is really, not too bad.
