If there's a word that befits the situation and the whole atmosphere, it has to be revolting. Judgements made, I believe were slipshod and at some juncture, culpable. I saw him down in the middle of the big, big green grass of supposed hope, gazing into the big box which was filled with thousands of possibilities (none of which materialised). He looked mightily forlorn. His face was smeared with utter disappointment. My heart just sank.

At the end of 93 minutes, it could have been the reds lifting the world club championship trophy. The despair is devastating.