It was officially the happiest moment of my life, some nine years ago.
I was sitting in my parents bedroom, where the television was. My brother lies on his side, cross-legged as ever. My father, in the corner, was at the table, working on his master's thesis for the night, I believe. Perhaps he had been doing something else, but knowing father as I know him then and now, he would be writing something, somewhere, somehow.
The rest of my family were still out somewhere, doing their business. I didn't quite care much at that moment, for I was bawling my eyes out.
It was the Champions League final, and Man Utd were trailing the Germans, Bayern Munich. Time was running out, and Bayern had already hit the post and the bar twice, through the genius that is Mario Basler. Carsten Jancker probably hit the bar himself as well.
Last I heard, he was playing in China.
And then, Teddy Sheringham scored, and equalised. I ran up and kissed my dad and brother, screaming with joy.
And then, this happened.
I literally shifted from crying tears of sadness to tears of joy within minutes. My mom and grandma came home at that moment, and I ran to them, hugging them and kissing them as well. They had no clue what just happened, but smiled through all of it nonetheless :)
I remember that moment well, and sometimes just thinking about it puts me in a happy place. It wasn't just the football, mind you: it was a good period for me and my family.
What a contrast, then, to a few weeks back. Alone, in my room, watching the match with Korean commentary slightly delayed (a few seconds delay, due to satellite transmission) coming through my headphones, because I didn't want to disturb the rest of the dormitory.
The times may change. Situations, contexts, environments may change. But Manchester United still gives me the happiness that I rarely get from a lot of other things.
Even if that changes, then at least I'll still have the memories.