He’s Gooner drag a boy down with him
HE stood silhouetted in the doorway when he got home, and I could tell just from the shape of him. Shoulders slumped, head down, heart so very clearly heavy. He couldn’t muster the energy or enthusiasm to say hello, just emitted a mournful mumble as he shuffled past woefully. It was immediately obvious – Arsenal had lost, again. There are three of us in this marriage, I’m resigned to that now. My husband is completely besotted with another – and she’s even more high maintenance than I am. He’s a proper glutton for punishment. He seeks refuge in the arms of an ultra-demanding mistress – both financially and of his time – who treats him appallingly. OK, yes, to get him hooked she provided him with some of the most rapturously ecstatic moments of his life, but they’re just a distant memory he sometimes tortures himself with. Now she constantly lets him down, mugging him off, time and time again – occasionally teasing him with the promise that things might get better, only to dash his desperate hopes and break his spirit even further. He’s in a toxic relationship, and so deluded that he’s in complete denial about it. As soon as the initial despair after each interaction begins to fade slightly, he starts making excuses for her. Defending her. Letting himself believe that she can make him happy, if he just hangs in there and promises he’ll always support her. I try to have sympathy, but it’s hard when he keeps returning to his abuser. So my husband and Arsenal are on their own, I don’t get involved any more. He disregards all common sense and is intent on self-harming so I turn a blind eye. But now I may have to step in and get re-involved. You see, he’s raising our son as a Gooner... and our son is starting to understand what that means. The poison chalice is being passed down to the next generation. My husband sees it as carrying on an essential tradition, a nonnegotiable rite of passage. To me, it’s dooming our boy to a life of misery. Placing a curse on a baby which – assuming he’s even half the devoted idiot his father is – will last forever. It’s like something out of a fairytale, and recently I started to feel that I should be the handsome prince that saves him... by happy accident, this would also mean rescuing myself from a life sentence of living with two miserable Arsenalites. In the end though, I was persuaded to butt out, after an impassioned – and lengthy – monologue from my husband. Yes, supporting Arsenal will be tough, but apparently the good will far outweigh the bad. Not in terms of football match results, needless to say, but because it will be character building and illustrate to him the importance of loyalty. It will show him that you have to persevere in times of adversity. It will make him resilient, courageous, and teach him that he must always stand up for what he believes in. And the clincher that convinced me once and for all? Not many people can pull it off, but Albie truly looks amazing in red.
To me, it’s dooming our son to a life of misery