HEADY with anticipation at a man you’ve never heard of signing for the club you support? These are the six stages in your journey to hatred:
Optimism
He’s Spanish, or Argentinian, or Brazilian, and he scored eight in Georgia’s Erovnuli Liga last year so this is clearly a next-level signing. He can’t help but be an incredible find by your club’s expert scouts and £30 million will be a bloody bargain when he takes us into the Champions League.
Denial
He needs match fitness. He was shit on his debut, admittedly, and subbed off the game after but early days. Ignore the fact he’s a professional athlete with f**k all to do all week but work on his fitness. How out of condition can you be when you’re running around all day, being watched every second in the gym and on a closely monitored diet?
Bargaining
It’s hard to adapt to another country and the weather’s not like it is at home. Never mind that he has an army of people looking after him, lives in a massive house and his girlfriend, mother and little sister are all here too. Perhaps he needs to adjust to our style of play? It’s so different to other clubs, definitely not all about kicking the ball between those two posts.
Anger
F**king well injured now. Bloody prima donna pulled up with his hamstring or ACL or some other medical phrase you claim to understand like an expert even though you don’t have basic first aid. He’ll be off for eight weeks, long enough for you to forget his underwhelming performances so far and build him up to be the next Rodri again.
Depression
First game back, sent off. Pissing joker left you down to ten men at Old Trafford and you got battered as a result. Two-match ban incoming. F**k it. Time to start shouting about how shit he is.
Acceptance
Loaned out to Preston North End. By now you’d almost forgotten he was on the club’s books. Signed in August, on his way down the footballing ladder by spring. Never mind, he’s bound to come back next season better for the playing experience. Are we still paying his £130k a week wages? F**k’s sake.
