Miserable Moments

I've made it my mission never to be miserable again when City lose and play poorly. This latest wicked disease has put things totally in to perspective, and shows football for what it really is, just a game. I've always let my emotions get the better of me re City, and it will now stop.
 
The 3-0 FA Cup defeat to Forest nearly finished me. I drank eight cans on the train back to London and upset a few people when I got online at home. I was furious. Vowed never again but set off to Pompey in the cup on the next weekend. I’d declined to do anything for my birthday in lieu of going (even a drink) and then the match was postponed. Two weekends ruined.
 
The 3-0 FA Cup defeat to Forest nearly finished me. I drank eight cans on the train back to London and upset a few people when I got online at home. I was furious. Vowed never again but set off to Pompey in the cup on the next weekend. I’d declined to do anything for my birthday in lieu of going (even a drink) and then the match was postponed. Two weekends ruined.
That's on the list for later - keep the cans locked up!
 
As a youngster through to my mid thirties I’ve been a miserable twat, whenever we’ve lost or played shite, but never when we’ve been relegated for some reason. I don’t get angry or miserable by our results or performances anymore, I feel that towards the shit reffing, shit decisions we get, var and the overall targeting of our club.

That 4-0 defeat to Wimbledon was a real what the fuck moment and I was miserable for the rest Saturday going into Sunday.
 
As a youngster through to my mid thirties I’ve been a miserable twat, whenever we’ve lost or played shite, but never when we’ve been relegated for some reason. I don’t get angry or miserable by our results or performances anymore, I feel that towards the shit reffing, shit decisions we get, var and the overall targeting of our club.

That 4-0 defeat to Wimbledon was a real what the fuck moment and I was miserable for the rest Saturday going into Sunday.


What made that day much worse one of our mates had gone to Spurs to watch United play with the only comfort being we knew were 3-0 down at half-time.

By the time we were walking back to the sherwood somebody had kindly informed us they had managed to win 5-3 in one of the greatest Premiership comebacks of all time.
 

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