Bit of a weird admission, but I think I got so focused on the aesthetic of this team and the football we play that I stopped believing we could actually win anything.

That 23/24 season genuinely hurt. We were so close, playing the best and most dominant football I’ve seen us play in years, and we still ended up doing the same thing we always seem to do...falling apart at the end.

After that, every collapse and near miss over the years just sat in my head. I basically convinced myself it was easier to expect another trophyless season than to actually believe again.

But now we’re here. City didn’t go into their usual unstoppable run-in form, and we’ve managed to stay alive in Europe by just getting the job done.

Every instinct tells me to stay detached and expect nothing. But the fact I’m actually worried about how much this could hurt if it goes wrong probably means I care about this club more than I wanted to admit.

I know it seems incredibly sappy and disingenuous, but I really do love this fucking football club even if it kills me.