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Honestly lads, I am actually finished with this game. How does some random trash can from the bottom of the table suddenly turn into prime Messi against me? It is actually a joke, bro. This league is finished, I am heading back to the Dutch league immediately.

I’m done making excuses because we just got cooked by a bunch of bench warmers. Draymond is out there just cardio-running while I’m realizing Steph is the only reason I’m not coaching high school ball. Honestly, Darwin Ham would probably have us winning championships while I’m just here getting exposed.

I’m genuinely sick of watching these bums sell every single night, man. How are we paying these dudes millions just to build brick houses in the arena? Defensive effort is zero and the body language is straight trash. I might actually lose my mind if I see another airball.

Listen, my process is clear. Everyone laughing at our third place finish, but where's that fraud Ten Hag now? Bottom half! If I had City's oil money and their referee friends, we'd win everything. But trust me, next season we're coming for that trophy, my friends.

I'm actually losing my mind watching this squad man, these guys are out here building skyscrapers with all these bricks. We're paying this dude fifty million to be a total pylon on defense while some random bench warmer cooks our whole perimeter. I'm about to deactivate my account for real, this team is absolute poverty.

Man, I'm actually sick of this poverty franchise. We really watched another masterclass in cardio from our superstars while the bench unit threw up enough bricks to build a new stadium. It's insane we're paying max contracts for zero defensive effort. Just trade everyone and let me go peacefully.

I am absolutely fuming because we just drew to a bunch of nobodies. My wingers were wandering around like lost tourists, looking more at the stadium lights than the actual ball. I swear, if I see one more useless step-over that leads to a turnover, I am sending these jokers to the reserves immediately.

Listen, Pep called me crying because the league is getting too stressful. I told him to relax, once I'm back in Manchester with my magical left foot, we're winning every trophy. I might even buy him some wax to keep that beautiful bald head shining forever.