So buckle up, this is what's happening, no point fighting it, did all we could last term, betrayed in the summer, served up on a platter here.
Personal responsibility. The players cop flack every week, every scuffed shot, missed header, suicide pass, missed tackle. Suddenly they are precious flowers that need to be fawned upon. That's the issue, the holier than thou, tell them they're magic, tell them they're the best, and then when the opposition turn up it all goes to rat spit.
Atrocious. The air of acceptance, the attitude of we're entitled. Shambles of a club. Deserve these cowards on the pitch, deserve the jackals on the board.
Living off of faded glory and being something once upon a time.
Reality starts here.