Alexander-Arnold... has spotted something... Origi! Anfield does it again! The miraculous, the impossible, made possible! From Manolas the Greek God in Rome... To a corner taken quickly at Anfield. Same story. Different year. at Anfield.

Ndi be anyi, my people, make una gather, I wan talk this thing wey dey my chest. You see this tweet . Our history with Nigerian Army no be today. E start from Asaba. October 1967, our fathers for Asaba wear white Akwa Ocha, white wey mean peace. Them no carry gun, them sing One Nigeria go welcome Federal troops because Biafran don blow Niger Bridge. Them think say peace go bring peace. But for Ogbe Osowa square, them separate our papa dem from our mama dem, line them up and shoot them like fowl. 700, some talk 1000 men, boys, grandfathers for one day. Mass grave dey there till today. No apology from Army. No apology from President. Nothing. After that war finish, 3 million of us don die. Children die of kwashiorkor because of blockage. Then them tell us No victor, no vanquished. 3Rs, Reconciliation, Reconstruction, Rehabilitation. Na lie. Na 20 pounds them give our fathers for bank, whether you get 10000 pounds before war or not. Till today, Nigeria never do truth commission, never say Ndigbo we offend una. Now come to this our time, my generation. Them bring Operation Python Dance, Egwu Eke. Them say na to fight kidnapping. But why na only South East una dey do Python Dance? Why una no do am for Sambisa? Una carry am come Aba, come Nkpor, come Asaba again, shoot unarmed boys wey dey protest. Over 150 killed. Then Python Dance II, una carry tank enter Afara Ukwu, enter Eze Kanu house, old traditional ruler, attack his compound. After una kill us, una come label IPOB terrorist overnight. When we complain, una just change name. Una call am Atilogun Udo, touch of peace. Which peace? Na same check point extortion, same harassment. Una change again to Golden Dawn. Golden Dawn for where? Anambra election period, soldiers full street, our boys dey hide for bush. Now na Udoka, Peace is supreme una talk. But for Udoka, every Igbo boy na suspect. 2am una dey break door, carry person. when I say the Army and Presidency never apologize and still expect us to join Army, e dey real. How you go kill my father for 1967 for Ogbe Osowa, kill my brother for 2017 for Afara Ukwu, call me terrorist, and still expect make I wear your uniform go fight for you? You never say sorry. You never pay. You never even acknowledge. We love Nigeria, we dey everywhere dey build, but Nigeria never kneel down tell us sorry. Until that apology and justice come, no be by force to join Army.

Four men, four worlds, one ball That is not a pass. That is history holding hands. Beckham - 34, on loan, on the floor. Still sees the game and slides it. Ronaldinho - everyone said he was finished. One smile, one touch, the defence freezes. Ambrosini - not a star, just the captain who bled for 15 years. He carries the magic forward. Pato - 19, a baby. He doesn't think, he just scores. Icon. Magician. Soldier. Boy wonder.

This picture is the last time we walked with our chest out and said, We are Manchester United and the whole world had to agree. Van der Sar. Rio Ferdinand. Wes Brown. Vidic. John O Shea. And a 23 year old Cristiano Ronaldo who thought he was unstoppable because he WAS. Carrick. Rooney. Anderson. Nani. Carlos Tevez. This was 2007 to 08. The last true United. We were not just winning. We were FEARED. We won the Premier League back to back to back. 07, 08, 09. Three in a row. We went to Moscow in the rain and beat Chelsea on penalties to become Champions of Europe. The night John Terry slipped. The night Van der Sar saved Anelka. The night Ronaldo cried. We went to Rome the next year and should have won again. We beat Arsenal 4 to 1 at the Emirates on their own turf. We were invincible. That team had everything. Rio and Vidic, a wall that never cracked. Van der Sar, hands of a giant. Carrick, the brain. Rooney and Tevez, the heart. And Ronaldo, the soul. 42 goals that season. Free kicks, headers, tears, brilliance. We felt proud because we knew, no matter who we faced, Barcelona, Chelsea, Arsenal, we would win. We had Sir Alex Ferguson on the touchline chewing gum like he owned time itself. And how did it end? It ended the way all beautiful things end. Not with a bang, but with goodbyes. Summer 2009. Ronaldo left for Madrid for 80 million. Tevez crossed to City. Van der Sar retired. Rio's back gave up. Vidic's knees gave up. Rooney stayed, but his soul left with Ronnie. Sir Alex tried to rebuild, but the Glazers had already put debt on our chest. We never replaced them. We bought Valencia to replace Ronaldo. We bought Owen to replace Tevez. From Moscow to where we are today. From that picture to begging for top four. That was the last time we were truly United. The last time being a United fan felt like being royalty. We did not know it then, but that photo was not a team photo. It was a farewell photo.