Bees Sting United in Bizarre Tale of Woe…
In a twist that would make Shakespeare’s tragic characters look like optimists on holiday, Manchester United, the once-mighty Red Devils, faced their second four-goal shellacking by Brentford in three seasons. If losing was an Olympic event, United would have taken gold, silver, and bronze—all while doing the waning moonwalk backwards, singing, “We’re going to Bilbao,” in unison. The fans, rather than throwing their pies in disgust, opted for some good old-fashioned gallows humor, singing louder than a flock of melodious magpies as Brentford pillaged the goalpost again and again.
United’s journey this season is like a poorly constructed game of FIFA with the volume cranked up to 11. They are lodged solemnly in the 15th place, with 16 losses tallied like a broken ironing board. Despite lobbing £200m on their lineup, they’ve limped along like a hamster trying to run an elephant race. But fear not, they’ve somehow charmed the Europa League even if the Premier League remains a wacky circus. It seems they took Sevilla’s substitute jersey for continental contests where they’re more delicioso than a tapas buffet.
In a sideshow of youthful vigor, 20-year-olds Garnacho and Mainoo have clocked enough minutes to vacation on Mars. Meanwhile, seventeen-year-old Obi took the field with wide-eyed enthusiasm, more bewildered than a turkey at Christmas. De Ligt and his bloodied crown found themselves outwitted by Brentford’s sky-high antics, while Shaw’s drama-filled own goal became the stuff of comedy gambols. Amorim tried to rally the troops with gestures of frustration, but alas, the Red Devils seemed stuck in football’s version of Groundhog Day, dreaming of a more merciful May.
