Blue Vs Red

Sometimes you just knew it.

Prior the heated derby I already had a bad hunch about it.

Got butterflies on my stomach.

The feel of dread instead of excitement.

The pessimistic hint that crept in every time the Blues spoke about the derby in optimistic tone.

I just knew it.

Much how I just knew it when Juventus lost to Them Who Shall Not Be Mentioned and Them Who Shall Not Be Mentioned's neighbour-team.

I didn't feel as excited as I should had been. I felt fear more than excited. I felt nervous and not the good kind of nervous. It's the kind of nervous that you get when you know something is going to be wrong and I hate it when I'm right about dreadful stuff.

I'm glad my so called psychic ability only works on minor problems, though. I'd hate to predict the ends of the world.

Came the day of the much talked derby.

Two Manchester's power houses.

The Red Devils visited The Blue Moon.

Needless to say I was torn.

Manchester United is my past, present and I believe, my future too.

I had their jersey when I was 14 and still in love with MU class of 92.

Speaking the names of Nicky Butt, Gary Neville, David Beckham, Eric Cantona, Dennis Irwin, David May, Edwin Van Der Sar, Peter Schmeichel still give me goosebumps. And Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, The Baby Faced Assassin, is still my favorite striker up until today. My love for The Red Devils is just as red as my blood.

But then Mancini took over Manchester City and the way David Silva plays stole my heart away. That darn wizard. Most importantly, have you ever seen how Manchester City play when they are at their best? David Silva will relentlessly all over the defenders from all directions, persistently making holes between their defense and creating chances and assists for Tevez or Aguero or Dzeko, or Balotelli to finish. Yaya Toure will be the solid rock you can count on in the middle, where all the attack begins. They will be toying  with their opponent and enjoy every minute of it. And Vincent Kompany will be the solid center back that have no mercy to nullify the threats. With Joe Hart in front of the goal, opponents will have a hard time to score when he's at his best performance. Just ask Tottenham.

They have suffered.

Not many will agree with me, but the way this current Manchester City play (again, when they are at their top form) remind me of Manchester United in the 90s. Not exactly the style, but more of the determination  they display and the terror they release to their opponent. It's like they're roaring "We are a solid team and we will break your dreams" and that exactly what happened.

But all hell really break loose when I found Manchester City youtube channel. It's just pure gem. Hilarity. Cure your curiosity about behind the scenes that took place at a club.

I saw them training. I saw them laughing. I saw them teased each other. I saw the "inside joke". And I hate when the old saying "Tak kenal maka tak sayang" hit me. They are no longer "just players", they become people that you care about. Before I knew, my Manchester City folder had reached 2GB in size and growing. My feet has sunk deep and there's no turning back. I signed for a life of hell: loving two clubs from the same city. I signed for rivalry. I signed for inevitable torn for the derby. I signed for the possibility of no matter which team win, there will be a half part of me that break into pieces.

I'm such a masochist.

What made it even worse is that I forgot that I'm also a Hufflepuff. This time it's a bad thing because by instinct I will automatically root for the underdog, and in this case, it's Manchester City.

Yes, they won the Premiere League last season. Yes, they beat MU in both derby, one with magnificent score of 1-6. But those somehow don't really made me count them as the top horse for this derby. Like I said, I had bad hunch.

Perhaps because they're still not at their best, they still have not found their form this season. The only match they showed the same grinta, if you will, was only when they faced Sunderland, early this season. That was Manchester City that I fell for.

But after the International Break, they struggled to get back to it. Much because many key players were injured and still injured until now (Micah Richards ;_;).

And I had bad hunch.

When Sunday came, I was asleep and watched the match 20 minutes late (!!!). Showed how much excitement I had. Either that, or I was too nervous that it took all my energy and made me felt tired and sleepy. A little bit of both, perhaps. And what happened next reminded me of a certain day in the 90s, when MU faced Liverpool, a first big match for a 13 years old me. My two favourite teams met and I rooted for Liverpool, the one that could fairly considered as underdog compared to the mighty Class of 92. I was hoping Steve McManaman, Robbie Fowler and Jason McAteer could do their job. They did, just not well enough as MU won 3-2. My first big match and my first taste of defeat. Bitter. Painful. As if someone had just carved a knife through my heart. I bleed invisible blood. I remember starring at the TV screen with hollow stare, like a ghost hoping for a second chance. Then, broken-hearted, I entered my room in silence and the lump I felt filling my chest was unendurable and triggered my tears. I cried. And I hated MU just a little bit. But not for long, because if you really love football for the sake of a good game, you can't hate the 90s MU that long, when they embodied the perfect football.

And history repeated itself. That Sunday night I had deja vu. The same bitter taste of defeat. More over if you think your team don't deserve the bad result. They got robbed by a man named Robin Van Persie. And at that moment, I felt what most of Arsenal fans must have felt when he decided to move to MU: the urge to kill RVP (not literally of course). It was just so devastating.

I screamed and shouted and jumped up and down when Zabaleta equalized only to broke down helplessly in the end. I was sucked in to a certain black hole a little too known, called frustration-because-your-team-has-just-lost, and had very little energy left. It's Mu vs Liverpool, French vs Italy in World Cup 98, Italy vs Spain in Euro 2012 all over again.

Monday was excruciating. I was struggled to see the beauty of life as if Dementors have kissed me. Yeah, it was that bad. Because it's not much the fact that they lost, but more of how they lost. And let's not talk about that detail, I don't think I'm ready, I still want to feel happy after writing this entry :(

I just hope this defeat could only fruitful for City, to give them a slap in the face that seems needed and awaken the long sleeping lion inside them, the new burning desire to win, like how Juventus' lost did to them, gave them a new grinta, a new power and determination. Because a true champion is not only shown by how you win, but also how you react when you're defeated, just like Conte, The Lion Heart, said.

So, release the eagle Blues, pronto! And fly high. And let me watch another brilliant display of football when you guys play on the pitch, the kind that will make me say, damn, I really love this game.

And I really really hope The Sheikh wont sack Papa Mancini ;_; I like Pep Guardiola but the thought of Mancini get sacks is just scary. *Sighs*