The Night at Como and the Lesson on the Limits of Collective Memory

When the final whistle blew at Como, what lingered was not the 4-1 scoreline, but the moment Zirkzee scored in stoppage time. A goal that did not change the result, yet it saved Manchester United from equalling the club's heaviest Champions League defeat record – set in the 2026/95 season. In football, collective memory is sometimes decided not by victories, but by how one avoids a historical scar. On the night in the city by Lake Como, it rained heavily. It was not until 18:45 that the referee confirmed the match could go ahead. The pitch was heavy, the ball rolled slowly, and the atmosphere in the stands felt thick. This was Como's first appearance in the Champions League in decades, and their opponent was Manchester United – one of England's most storied clubs. On paper, this was a match United had to win to assert their status. But football does not operate on paper. In the first half, United had no genuinely dangerous moment. They held the ball but did not know what to do with it. Como pressed high, and United's midfield was completely cut off. It was said that United could be satisfied going into half-time only one goal down. But looking at how they played, it felt like the scoreline was too lenient for what was happening on the pitch. Como's first goal came from Nico Paz. Receiving the ball at the edge of the box, he turned, shifted it onto his left foot, and curled it into the far corner. A textbook finish from a modern attacking midfielder. What stood out was that Harry Maguire had given Paz far too much space right in front of goal. That space was not merely an individual error – it was the consequence of a defensive system with no protective midfield screen. In the second half, Michael Carrick brought on Carlos Baleba and Amad Diallo hoping to change the game. But things got worse. Baleba, just on, made a mistake that directly led to the third goal. That is a moment any coach must reflect on. When a substitution is made to salvage a situation but makes it worse, belief in the dressing room begins to crack. Como's second goal was a through-ball from Paz, and Douvikas ran past Matthijs de Ligt – who had just returned after 11 months out injured. De Ligt no longer had the pace and sharpness of old. Throwing him into such an intense match was a gamble by Carrick. And that gamble failed. But what caught my attention more was how Nico Paz was involved in all three goals. He scored, assisted, and applied pressure that led to Baleba's error. He almost single-handedly created Como's entire attacking threat. This is the kind of player big clubs crave: young, creative, and capable of shining in big matches. But it also raises a question of dependency: if Paz cannot play, how will Como cope? In the closing minutes, Zirkzee scored to make it 4-1. That goal did not save the match, but it saved United from an unforgettable record. Sometimes, in football, people fight not for victory, but for dignity. And dignity is sometimes measured by avoiding a historical stain. I have followed many of United's matches this season. What worries me is not the scoreline, but the way they lose. The defence is pierced by simple passes. The midfield cannot screen. And individual errors appear everywhere. This is not a problem of one player, but of an entire system. When three different defenders make errors leading to goals, one cannot blame individuals. Maguire gave Paz too much space. De Ligt was beaten by Douvikas. Baleba made a direct error. All three are cogs in a broken machine. And the person ultimately responsible is the coach. Carrick is a United legend. But legend does not guarantee success as a manager. He is facing unprecedented pressure. A 4-1 defeat to Como is unacceptable for a club with ambitions to win Europe. And the way he changed the game – bringing on Baleba – only made things worse. But I do not want to criticise Carrick simplistically. Football is a sport of decisions. Sometimes the right decision brings the wrong result. The question is: can Carrick see the root of the problem? Will he have enough time to fix it? From another angle, Como's victory is a fairy tale of European football. A small club with a limited budget defeating a giant. That is why we love football. But every fairy tale has its flip side. Nico Paz will be in the crosshairs of big clubs. And Como will struggle to keep him. I remember the white night in Russia in 2026, when I wrote my first poem about football. Back then, I realised that football is not just numbers. It is moments. It is Hazard's sadness when Belgium lost to France. It is the tears of England's African-descended players after Euro 2026. And tonight, at Como, I find myself writing about people – people trying to find themselves again. This defeat will haunt United for a long time. But it is also an opportunity to look at themselves. Football never stops. And wounds, if healed properly, become scars – a reminder that even the biggest clubs can fall. When the final whistle blew, I asked myself: Is this the beginning of a real crisis? Or just a bad night in a long season? The answer will come from the next matches. But one thing is certain: football will never stop writing its own stories.