Rage, rage, against the dying of delight: Jose loses his bottle
IT was poor from Jose, smashing water bottles against the ground in delight as Manchester United scored their late winner against Young Boys of Berne.
I say delight, though it might have been rage too, because these days he always seems to be capable of rage at anything, really, anything at all — given the misery that he seems to be constantly enduring as manager of Man Utd, perhaps that goal just meant that his agony would be prolonged.
And yes it was poor from Jose, because it was the kind of celebration that he would once have regarded with disdain — the sort of thing that he would expect only from the saddest of men. The sort of men who think that beating the Young Boys of this world should be celebrated at all, when it should not — instead it should be a cold-blooded annihilation, which is what such nights used to be like for him. And of course for Alex Ferguson, during the years of The Terror.
A while back I urged those of you who’d had their lives destroyed by The Terror to savour these times of torment for United, these days which we thought we would never see — because it can’t last much longer.
Now I’m not so sure.
Because even when we are witnessing these scenes of delirium, it is usually because United have somehow snatched a result against Newcastle, or Bournemouth, or indeed Young Boys.
Which puts them in this peculiar position whereby their wild celebrations of victory against poor teams, is itself a reason for their enemies to celebrate — time was they’d be doing this after winning the Champions League in injury time, now they’re at it after surviving a tense affair at home to Leicester.
Which is poor from them, and of course poor from Jose — and the poor, as we know, get poorer.
Jose Mourinho takes it out on the Gatorade