Jasper was right, but that means we have to be prepared for all outcomes.When we move this to the post match thread, there may be feelings of jubilation, stoicism or (more likely in a post match thread) unrestrained anger. Of course these feelings are all valid and all are just, but they aren’t all as important as each other. Let me explain.
Whilst too often we erroneously attribute quotations to Shakespeare, Churchill or the King James Bible, it is less frequent that quotations are incorrectly attributed to Drake. Less frequent still that quotations from Jasper in the Simpsons are attributed to Drake.
His immortal words, ‘Moon pie - what a time to be alive’ have become somewhat twisted over the years and if I’m honest, m not so interested in the Moon pie, and I’m more interested in the rest of the sentence.
‘What a time to be alive’. Indeed it is, because as European royalty this was once our daily bread, and forgive us our excesses, because we forgot how wonderful it tasted.
My first real memories of European football were formed in the 91/92 season. A 2-0 away defeat at Guy Roux’s Auxerre was over turned in a furious anfield atmosphere. It throbbed at pulsed and Auxerre wilted under the pressure of the passion we showed.
And I was hooked. Leaving the stadium the adrenaline courses through my veins for hours to come. European football the drug of my choice (once I had kicked the branston pickle habit) and I couldn’t get enough. But the joy and passion was to be short lived. We got knocked out 4-1 on aggregate in the quarter finals. Genoa were our conquerers, led by the huge frame of the Czech journey man Tomáš Skuhravy. Losing the away leg 2-0 we then limped out losing 2-1 at home.
Forlorn and dejected after losing and failing to reach the heights of Auxerre again, this was a bitter pill to swallow.
But swallow I did, and whilst the anger at the way our challenge for the UEFA cup faded so quickly, the anger soon dissipated.
But the jubilation didn’t fade.
The passion didn’t fade.
Like an addict, my yearning for that high didn’t fade.
The 90s remained a fallow time for our European ambitions and the lesser tables of the UEFA cup and Cup winners cups were to be our stamping grounds. But when the champions league returned the feeling was even more special. The peak of the high, the most spiritual of jubilation, the deepest of despair.
2001 brought a UEFA cup and 2005 brought big ears (again). Two occasions where I wondered how I was gong to make it through the next five minutes alive, let alone the whole match and extra time. Each occasion was extraordinary, a feeling I’ve never had before, and sadly 2007 never quite felt like that, despite losing, it didn’t feel the same. We should be doing this, yeah? The depths weren’t as low, I’m sure the high wouldn’t have been. It had grown comfortable, we had grown to accept it as the norm again.
And we know what came next..two cowboys set off a nuclear bomb in the heart of the club... and the years have passed... And we have grown to remember the longing for victory. The hunger, the desire, the burning want for success. The false dawn of 14/15 has gone and we’re back. But this time we’re back with intention, the reds are back and we’re staying there. Fuck your oil money, fuck your Barca fanboys and fuck your defeatist shite. We’ve unleashed the uncontainable plasma at the heart of this club once more. We’ve unleashed the plasma of desire in 50,000+ fans.
So what a time to be alive eh? This match could end in any result, but what ever it is, we’ll be back.
So feel the jubilation my friends, feel it while it lasts and hold that flame in your hands and keep it alive. It’s more important than anything else.
This is what we live for, this is our drug let’s grab it while we can. Whatever the result we live for this feeling again and again and again, and when it ends? We will have no regrets.
See you on the other side.
T
2O
