An analogy:
I woke up yesterday morning late for work because there had been a power cut in the night and so the alarm clock didn't go off. I jumped up out of bed and stubbed my little toe on the bedroom door - splitting it open with blood pouring everywhere. Had a shower (toe stinging like mad) before limping downstairs to put the kettle on. Burnt the toast before spilling the coffee down my white shirt.
Whilst driving to work I hit every fucking red light on the road thus making me even later for the presentation I was supposed to deliver at work. Finally got in work before remembering that I'd forgot to pick up the memory stick (which had my presentation on it) from the coffee table. I felt like crying.
On the way home I got a flat tyre. Fucking gutted! Got out to change it and the heavens opened and I got absolutely drenched.
Couldn't be arsed cooking when I got home because of the day I'd had so I ordered a Mighty Meat from Dominos. It came on time and so I thought my luck was finally changing; opened the box and it was a fucking Vegetable Supreme.
Went to put on City's match from the previous day but the Sky Plus had fucked up.
Finally dragged myself up the stairs to bed feeling fed-up, emotionally drained and sorry for myself...
History isn't just about the good times, it's about the whole journey: the ups and the downs, the colourful and the drab, the trials and tribulations suffered. Success doesn't equal history, experience equals history. Thick and thin equals history.
Some of the most memorable moments, days or weeks in all our lives have been dark, cold places. Whether it's a nightmarish day described above, City getting beaten by Stockport or something else doesn't matter, we learn from it and move forward and that memory becomes a part of us, part of our history.