Football Is Back. Please Cancel the Wedding.

By Dr Isaac Kwesi Acquah

Three weeks without Manchester United football, and I nearly got married.

That is how serious this international break became. One more quiet Saturday and I would have been comparing wedding venues instead of arguing about our midfield. Somebody needs to explain to the football authorities that when you leave a United supporter unattended for this long, he starts making lifetime decisions.

It began innocently. A free afternoon. A peaceful weekend. Time to rest.

Then the silence became suspicious.

No team sheet to question. No referee to cross-examine. No opposition supporter waiting for me in the group chat. I had so much spare emotional energy that I started thinking about settling down.

Thankfully, club football is returning. The wedding committee can stand down.

I would like to thank the fixture calendar for intervening before deposits were paid.

Apparently, this is what normal people do on weekends

These past weekends have been painfully boring. I watched other things, scrolled through my phone and discovered that Saturday contains far more hours than I had previously been informed.

People tell you to enjoy the peace. But I support Manchester United. My understanding of a weekend involves hope, tactical arguments and occasionally staring at a television as though it owes me an explanation.

Without United, I was alarmingly calm.

I could finish a meal without pausing to shout, “Who is marking that man?” I could answer messages without first checking whether we had conceded. I even had time to reflect on my life.

Very dangerous. Football must never allow this to happen again.

I love this club, against considerable evidence

Let me be clear: I love Manchester United.

I love the history, the shirt, Old Trafford and the ridiculous possibility that we might produce something special just when everybody has finished laughing at us.

I also love the version of myself who sees one good passing move and immediately begins calculating how many points we need to climb the table.

That man has suffered. That man has learned nothing.

United can disappoint me on Sunday, and by Thursday I will be explaining why the next match is the beginning of our revival. Give me a training photo, a returning player and a manager saying the boys look sharp, and I am ready to submit my optimism for peer review.

The evidence may be limited. The confidence is enormous.

I have been to Old Trafford myself. I have stood outside in the red shirt and sat beside Sir Alex Ferguson’s words inside. So when I say I love this club, please understand that this relationship has involved travel expenses. Purity, this is a serious commitment. Kindly respect the investment.

Purity, please allow the final whistle to finish

And then there is Purity.

He does not support Manchester United, but nobody monitors our defeats with greater dedication. The moment we lose, he is the first to call and tease me.

Sometimes I suspect his phone receives the final score before the referee does.

United lose, and suddenly Purity has excellent network coverage, a fully charged battery and absolutely nothing else to do. I am still processing the result, and he has already opened the customer complaints department.

My brother, if you followed your own club with this level of commitment, they would appoint you sporting director.

But enjoy it while it lasts. I am looking forward to United putting together enough wins to give his call button a well-deserved holiday.

Purity, when that happens, please keep the same energy. Do not suddenly become a busy man with responsibilities.

A break, a reset, and my annual return to unreasonable hope

Now that club football is coming back, I want the break to have given us something useful: renewed spirit, clearer ideas and the appetite to start winning consistently.

I hope Carrick and the players have used the time to work on the things that make supporters age during matches. Moving the ball with purpose. Giving the man in possession an option. Reacting when we lose it. Defending as though everybody has met before.

I want a good performance followed by another good performance. A win followed by another win. Three points without needing a post-match explanation longer than my PhD thesis.

We cannot keep treating consecutive victories as an exclusive service available by special request.

Of course, three weeks away will not magically solve everything. But as a United fan, I reserve the right to believe the training ground has been operating as a miracle centre until the next team sheet proves otherwise.

The returning players have already restored my optimism

There is encouragement in the injury picture, too. Amad is reported to be nearing a return after the break, while Matthijs de Ligt has taken a step forward by playing in the recent friendly against Lausanne-Sport.

Their availability still needs to be managed, but the prospect of having more options is enough to get me talking recklessly again.

I am looking forward to Amad giving us that spark: the quick feet, the willingness to take on a defender and the ability to make something happen when a match begins to feel stuck.

With De Ligt working his way back, I am hoping for more authority at the back. I would appreciate watching an opposition attack without mentally preparing a witness statement.

Please, let these players build their fitness properly. My excitement can sprint ahead. Their recovery does not need to.

Baleba, please bring some order to this household

And then there is Carlos Baleba.

His arrival at United, and his recent friendly appearance as he builds fitness, give me another reason to look forward to the restart.

What excites me is the possibility of more energy, bite and ball-carrying power in midfield. I want us winning possession and doing something useful with it. I want opponents to have to work to get through the middle.

At times, I have watched our midfield with the concern of a homeowner discovering that the front gate has been left open.

Baleba could help us close it.

If he settles well and finds his rhythm, I believe he can make us more formidable, giving the defence more protection and our creative players a stronger platform.

I am not asking him to fix the entire club on his own. He is a midfielder, not an emergency government.

But I am absolutely looking forward to seeing what he brings. Knowing myself, his first convincing tackle will have me announcing that the rebuild is complete.

Meanwhile, the other clubs have been giving their fans actual football

I will be watching the rest of the football too, even if United remain the club with administrative control over my mood.

Barcelona have won their opening seven league matches. Seven out of seven. Watching that kind of consistency as a United fan feels like visiting a house where the electricity never goes off.

Their supporters can apparently look forward to kick-off without first conducting a risk assessment. Must be lovely.

Real Madrid, meanwhile, have five wins and two defeats from seven league matches, leaving them six points behind Barça. That is hardly a collapse, but when your biggest rivals keep winning, even a respectable start begins to require explanations.

For once, Madrid supporters can join the rest of us in discovering that a famous badge does not automatically come with three points.

Back in England, Manchester City have won all five of their opening league games. Annoyingly efficient. I acknowledge the form, but I refuse to applaud it in my own blog.

Arsenal are second, three points behind City. Their supporters have reasons to be confident, which means the rest of us should prepare for lengthy voice notes.

Liverpool are unbeaten, with two wins and three draws. Difficult to beat, certainly, but three draws suggest even they have been leaving some points at reception.

And Tottenham are bottom with two points, heading into a meeting with United that both clubs badly need to win.

I am not laughing too loudly. United have one league win ourselves, and a man standing in a leaking house should be careful when mocking his neighbour's roof.

Still, this is what I missed: watching the form change, the arguments grow and everybody's bold predictions collide with ninety minutes of football.

Bring back the football. I will handle the consequences.

What am I looking forward to most?

The anticipation before kick-off. The team news. A proper attacking performance. Returning players finding their rhythm. Baleba getting involved. The possibility that this restart gives us a run of wins we can actually build on.

And, yes, the group chat.

I have been far too quiet. If United start winning consistently, several people will discover that my restraint during the break was temporary.

I know there may still be frustrating afternoons ahead. I know loving United does not come with a guarantee of sensible blood pressure.

But I missed them.

I missed having a match to look forward to. I missed the arguments, the celebrations and that completely irrational feeling that today might be our day.

So welcome back, club football. Welcome back, Manchester United.

Please win consistently this time. I have already told people the break has renewed our spirit, and I would appreciate some cooperation.

As for the wedding?

Postponed until further notice.

The club I am already committed to is playing again.

Glory, glory, Manchester United.