(OJ NOTE: From the forthcoming Filmic Cuts 6. Hope you enjoy…)
Every year, it is the same.
We come to the ground, watch our boys battle on, but see the spirit slowly sap away. Watch as that brief moment of hope is wiped away by a double dose of intense misery. A victory here, a point there, is soon replaced by a run of pain that reminds us exactly where we stand in the world.
We are Aston Villa fans, and this is our curse.
It didn’t used to be this bad. We had hope. We had passion. Now, they are figments in the wind, fluttering above Villa Park like dying clouds on a summer day. Now, it is merely watching the lads go through the motions, passing the ball sideways and hoping not to be turned over by another team battling for relegation.
It is only the lucky flip of a coin that has kept us up recently – a surprise draw from our rivals, or goal difference being in our favour; little things that cause your cuticles to slowly whittle away. And at the end of it? We just survive. We just hang on.
Well, on this day I’d had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore – no more snatches of positivity, no more false dawns on a Sunday morn – and when the email came asking me to get my new season ticket, I deleted it out of hand. No more pain. No more misery. Just a quiet Saturday afternoon with the paper, with no more nightmares of a footballing sort. Continue reading A Nightmare in Claret & Blue