This essay, by Abdur Rahman, 17, a student at Faujdarhat Cadet College in Salimpur, Bangladesh, is one of the Top 10 winners of The Learning Network’s “How To” Informational Writing Contest for Teenagers.
We are publishing the work of all the winners over the next several days, and you can find them here as they post.
How to Survive as a Manchester United Fan
“Supporting Manchester United is like buying a knockoff jersey with ‘RoonEY10’ stickered at the back,” says Mashrur Rahman Mahir, a 22-year-old from Dhaka, Bangladesh, and a lifelong United devotee. “You know it’s flawed, but you wear it proudly anyway — because therapy’s expensive.” Mahir, whose dorm is plastered with CR7 posters and a “Glazers Out” banner (taped over his ex’s face), embodies United’s holy trinity: hope, delusion and 1 a.m. caffeine shakes. Here’s his ultimate guide on how to survive as a Red Devil.
Start by accepting your irrational love for United — it’s hard-wired in your DNA. “My father supported United because they were kings. I support because I’m a masochist,” Mahir shrugs. “At least we’re consistent. In suffering.” The first rule of survival? Treat every season like a Bollywood plot. There’s drama, tragedy and a guaranteed happy ending … except there’s no happy ending. Just more drama. And Antony spinning.
Dhaka adds its own spice to the misery. Imagine a 1 a.m. kickoff against Burnley, only for the power to die in the 89th minute. “God’s mercy,” Mahir laughs. “He’s sparing us another collapse.” To cope, Dhaka’s fans spin delusion into optimism: Antony’s 360-degree spins are “art,” Onana’s goalkeeping is “bold,” and the Glazers are “just football-lover misunderstood billionaires.” (Note: They’re not.)
Mahir’s advice: “Never watch a match on an empty stomach. You need energy to scream at Maguire’s header. Only to watch the opponents cheering.” Avoid strangers: “If a Chelsea fan sits nearby, samosa them. Self-defense!” During derbies, when City scores their treble, just smirk and ask, “What color is your FA Cup?” They’ll confuse your shattered soul for enlightenment.
Silence speaks volume. After losses, Dhaka’s United fans communicate through WhatsApp stickers of Ferguson’s red face. “Words are overrated,” Mahir says. “A crying emoji says more than Roy Keane’s rants.”
People misunderstand introverts; the world misunderstands United fans. They think we’re “entitled.” We’re just … romantics. Delusional romantics.
But here’s the secret: We’re eternal optimists. We’ll celebrate 2-1 wins over Luton like trebles. We’ll argue that “Europa League Thursdays” are glamorous. And when the Glazers sell? “We’ll party … until Elon Musk rebrands Old Trafford to X Stadium.”
In the end, survival is about pride. “Dhaka’s potholes have more ambition than our midfield,” Mahir grins. “But when asked why I endure this, I say: ‘Someone must.’ Besides, Liverpool fans are so annoying.”
So, light a candle for Fergie, pour a cha for Lisandro’s ACL, and repeat after Mahir: “Next year is our year.”
“Glory Glory”? Na, bhai … cope, cope.
