Ta-daaaaaaa!
This season has had twists, turns, and a lot of farts which should not have been trusted.
Yet here we are.
On the cusp of a European Final for the first time since 2019. Which was the first time since 1984. Which was the first time...you get it. These things don't happen very often, certainly not as often as they should for us given that we're, well, us.
So let's have it.
Let's finish the job we started.
Let's bask in Romero leading us like a warrior! Let's roar as Vicario defies the laws of physics and gravity. Let's cheer as VdV charges in to steal every last ball. And let's scream with delight when Udogie and Porro show their will, pace, and grace in tough moments.
fudge the plastic...and fudge the past. This is NOW and NOW is OUR time!
No doubt we'll be who we are, and the collective squeak of N17-favoured ars-ese will becomne cacophonous at aroundn 9.57pm UK Time, but let us BELIEVE and let us understand that as a football club, we are the ONLY ones who can put a foot around the back of our heads, stand on one leg with our eyes closed and look fantastic doing it! We can bend, stretch, lose shape and then suddenly SNAP INTO GLORIOUS BODILY UNION!
WE ARE YOGA...which is an anagram for...
GO YA!
Oliver Reed didn't give a fu ck, he went for it. He knew the score. So do we...
Which means COYMFS!
View attachment 19448View attachment 19447View attachment 19442View attachment 19443View attachment 19444View attachment 19445View attachment 19446View attachment 19449View attachment 19450View attachment 19453