I'm glad for the journey we've been on visiting some grounds and places around the country that helped emphasise that we are all mortal and nobody is automatically deserving of anything. Once you get through the plastic united fans in these places you usually find true footy fans.
You learn to roll with the punches, but I don't miss it. It just makes the successes sweeter.
When we lost the derby a couple of years back some gloating united fan said he bets it must hurt. But when you've been pissed wet though at bury, barely able to celebrate an equaliser with enthusiasm, out fought by Mansfield or hoping that Shrewsbury's striker may sign for you (and no offence meant, it's just world away from where we are now), then you have perspective.
United fans don't know the meaning of true hurt footballing wise, they have proven they haven't the stomach for it, which is why when we win a derby they scuttle off home from the pub before the final whistle. And I am proud of that, that we've seen the bad times and stayed, laughed and still somehow hoped, dared to come back again.
No history? Bought success! Undeserved? Fans and journalists who chat this tripe at us only show themselves up to be ignorant oxygen stealers. We've been to footballing hell, danced with the devil, claws our way back, fell a few times, dusted ourselves off and gone again. Then when, as Klopp may say, God reached out his hand to Manchester City, we took it and rose above the rest. Now we look down from on high, and they can suck my balls.