The scoreline might have made it look worse than it was, but Manchester United had a loss of this proportion coming, and need to wake up before its too late. Their rivals are slowly speeding out of sight.
Defeats are complicated. Some, like the aftermath of a failed conquest, leave you broken, some, heavy-hearted for how much a victory would’ve meant, and some, like the one at Old Trafford on Monday night, feel like a punch to the chest from Hercules himself. Tottenham are not supposed to beat Manchester United, definitely not at Old Trafford, most certainly not 3-0.
As the game drew to a close, the cameras inevitably panned to Jose Mourinho. There he was, egging his players on, patting them on their backs, lifting their drooping heads, and then in one long, glorious crescendo of emotional defiance, he exchanged a full minute of applause with the Stretford End before disappearing into the tunnels. It was a moment for the ages. The United faithful were relentless in their support even in the face of a crushing loss, singing Jose’s and Pogba’s and De Gea’s names loud enough for decibel levels to be forced down on television sets in India.
Football fandom is complex too, barbaric when it comes to defending home colours, rock-solid in support of players and manager and yet, disenchanted and resentful if the club or its representatives tug at the strings of their patience for too long. There remains a certain honour in standing by your beloved club during times of distress, but it now works within a tighter threshold. Match tickets cost a small fortune, and it will be naive to expect a younger generation to stand tall and watch their team touch newer depths while their own bank balance slowly depletes. If elite football has turned into an industry, the manifestation has come through increased ticket prices and decreased patience.