Belief

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. At the time when they needed me the most, I wavered. I doubted them. I set myself up for disappointment, prepared my heart for it. I forsook them at their darkest hour, I placed my well being over them, yet they still played the game of their lives. They raised their game, they stood 2 metres tall, they played with their hearts. So while I celebrate and revel in this victory, I feel ashamed as well, for I had doubted them, didn't render the support they demand.
7-1. This was a team that had players like Fletcher and O'Shea, whom I frequently condemn for not being good enough to be a Man Utd player. 2 goals from Carrick, who perhaps with the absence of Scholes, was able to step up and hit those sweet long shots, his second was just a beauty, unsaveable. Giggs played those passes that I remember he could do ages ago, including that grounder banana pass for Ronaldo's second, the last time I saw that was way back when he set up Andy Cole's 4th goal for a 5-1 win over Newcastle. Ronaldo, what can I say, everytime he touches the ball there's this air of excitement and expectation that crackles around the ground, and I think he revels in it. Player of the season for me so far no doubt. And Smith, after his horror injury, deserves his goal. I missed the sight of him harrying defenders, snapping at their heels.
Dreams are made of this. I had already told myself, the only way they can win this is that the players play their best, and they sure did. I had this silly grin pasted on my face for the work at work. And given some stuff that have been happening in my life, it looks like my fortunes are somehow tied to my favourite club for 12 years.
Glory, glory, Man Utd.