I consider myself to be an eternal optimist when it comes to watching my favourite players and teams, so much so that some might say I’m a tad deluded. But Manchester United somehow bring out the opposite instinct in me.
The 2025/26 season was bleak at United. Out of both cups at the earliest opportunities and no European football. Between that and the previous year’s league finish and Europa League final defeat to Tottenham, I was subjected to plenty of jibes from friends who support rival teams. All taken in good jest. I love watching United and of course I’d have loved to see them play more games, but only having to withstand one 90-minute game a week did come with some relief.
I am incredibly loyal to managers, which probably puts me in the minority, and it really disappoints me how little time they’re afforded these days. In the 13 years since Fergie retired, I’ve found myself feeling for those in the dugout and wanting things to work out for them. But the sight of Ruben Amorim slumped in his seat during the shootout loss to Grimsby really did test that loyalty. Even I’ll admit that.
I am fortunate to say that I witnessed United play under Ferguson and it was a joy. That belief that United would find a winner even when time was running out gave you a real buzz. Michael Owen in the Manchester derby in 2009, to name one. Those moments have been fewer and further between since. Liverpool in the FA Cup in 2024, Lyon in the Europa League in 2025 and Wolves in the league in 2024 are a few that come to mind.
Contrast that buzz and surge of adrenaline, even sitting on the sofa, with the nervous feeling as it gets late in a game and United only have a one-goal lead. You start thinking about how we’ll concede rather than how we might score another. Even opposition teams going down to 10 men makes me nervous. Newcastle and Everton both managed to beat us after having a player sent off last season. Apparently, having an extra player isn’t enough to put my mind at ease.
United are a massive club, so naturally they’re a hot ticket for TV appearances. That gives me plenty of opportunities to watch my team, which is useful given how difficult it is to get a ticket to watch them live. If the match is on and I’m available, the chances are I’m watching it. Useful for keeping up with United. Less beneficial for my heart rate.
The latest Manchester derby was another frustrating afternoon, with City down to 10 men from the 25th minute and United still coming away with a defeat. A dubious goal being allowed to stand didn’t help. Thanks VAR…
Then the Manchester United app feeds you a nugget of optimism with images of Carlos Baleba at Carrington and you find yourself looking forward to what comes next. By Wednesday, when we play Brighton in the League Cup, the anxiety will have set in all over again. Then there’s another game at the weekend. Last season at least gave me a few days to get over one match before talking myself into the next. Now we’re back to doing it more than once a week.
Growing up watching Ferguson’s teams, you learned to love the attack, attack, attack mantra. Nowadays, as good as United can be on the counter-attack, an end-to-end game fills me with dread. I don’t sit down expecting us to lose or squander a lead, but it doesn’t always come as a shock when we do.
If I’m watching a game where I don’t support either team, I can just sit back and enjoy it. I get that same satisfaction and pleasure from watching teams like France and New Zealand in rugby, whose eagerness to play at a high tempo and maintain a high ball-in-play percentage can produce some unbelievably entertaining spectacles. I can appreciate the attacking intent without worrying about what it might cost my team.
I’m in no way suggesting that if, and hopefully when, United return to the summit of English football, I’ll miraculously become carefree watching them. But the difficult years since Ferguson have made me appreciate the successes I’ve already witnessed.
Simply put, I care too much.
