When I was a little boy, I remember waking up one night to the flickering lights of the living room, accompanied by sporadic whistles and random exchanges of boos and cheers. As I tiptoed my way towards the glowing light, I discovered my dad sitting alone in the living room, eyes fixed on the television screen. Slowly, I propped myself up onto the sofa, and mimicked the grunts and glees of my dad, always in favor of the men in red. Since that faithful evening, this routine became a ritual for both my dad and I. Through the years, I witnessed the ups and downs of my favorite football club - Manchester United - the treble season, Beckham's departure, the golden years of Ronaldo, and the farewell of Sir Alex Ferguson, all behind the television screen. For years, I envied those who are able to be there among the stands, donning the red jersey, cheering at the top of their lungs. Disgruntled, I made a promise to myself – I will be there some day. It took me 17 years to fulfil that promise, but it was all worth the wait. Standing infront of the stadium, I was awestruck by the massive grandeur the stadium exudes - meticulously designed to echo the rich history of the club. The Museum and Stadium Tour took us on a visit around the premise of the stadium. Split over three floors, the museum covers every detail of United's history, including an array of trophies, from youth team silverware won by the Busby Babes to bigger prizes like the European Cup. Though I was not able to catch a live match during my visit, I was contended to stand alone in the stands, appreciating the majestic view of the freshly cut field, as waves of songs and cheers resounded in my head. The feeling was surreal - I was a small boy all over again.
This is Old Trafford, the Theatre of Dreams.