Just why do we put ourselves through this every season?
Mark Giles, who works on the sports desk of The Times, knows just what a rollercoaster of emotions the supporters of Manchester United and Chelsea were experiencing as they watched the Champions League final unfold.
Mark has seen, it is fair to say, more lows than highs during his football-watching lifetime - he does support Oldham Athletic, after all. Here is his story:
So how was it for you, United and Chelsea fans? Excruciating for both, then simultaneously exhilarating for one set and mind-numbing for the other, like a death in the family. And that, for real supporters, is not to exaggerate.
As the emotionally drained players in the Luzhniki Stadium stepped up to take their penalties, getting on for 2 in the morning, the thought occurred: what must it be like to have no sporting allegiances whatsoever. Imagine, weekends that are not defined by your team’s result; imagine going to the supermarket without a sporting care in the world, instead of being glued to Gillette Soccer Saturday and kicking the walls, or the cat if you have one (less dangerous), when that 90th-minute winner for the other side flashes up.
For everyone who nails his or her colours to the mast, there is that Worst Moment. Mine? Easy. The 1994 FA Cup semi-final at Wembley. Oldham Athletic 1-0, totally against the odds, versus Manchester United with less than a minute of extra-time remaining.
A hopeful ball is lofted over the Oldham defence -- The Sun was later to say that it was the first time they had been turned on their heels all day -- and Mark Hughes latches on with a volley that could have gone anywhere. Instead, it reaches the only part of the net unattainable to Jon Hallworth, our goalkeeper, a bystander for much of the afternoon.
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