Cheers. Fucking got me bawling again.
Honestly, my boy wasn't that bothered about watching but came in with 5 minutes to go. And when the Chiesa goal went in I was tempted to evict the fucking jinx.
Bloody hell lads. We've won a fucking trophy. An actual proper trophy. At Wembley. Against Liverpool. Who we've not beat in a decade. Who are the presumptive PL champions. With the presumptive player of the season on their side.
I was not confident at all. Everything seemed to stack up against us. Losing key players to injury, facing an opponent who'd be a bogey team if they were worse than they are, and all that.
But we were fucking immense. Every single man in black and white was imperious. We didn't sneak a win, or grind one out. We battered the best team in the land. Salah was anonymous. Their much lauded midfield was porous. And the best CB in the league was so shit scared of Isak, van Dijk spent most of the game marking Murphy instead.
Fuck me.
Much love lads, much love.