If Manchester United were a metaphor, I could wax poetic in a river of cliches and tropes. I could wallow in self satisfying nostalgia, drinking champagne on the deck of the titanic. I could indulge my cerebral cortex with thoughts of Greek tragedies, of Midas and his golden touch. …
a quaint story of why success makes for a great husband, and a even bitterer divorce….
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