Love you, bye

Whenever a relationship of mine breaks down, I turn to a theory of blamelessness.

We were two stars that burned too bright, I say. Every relationship has a finite amount of time, and we just spent too much time together. This is the best for both of us.

Largely this theory is my coping mechanism to avoid self-reflection. Of course there was blame. I usually don't communicate well enough, or I'm too miserable. They invariably get sick of me, or trample on my independence. Is being apart really for the best? Who knows.

For Roberto De Zerbi and Brighton & Hove Albion, I can't help but think the theory is true. There were fireworks. They made history together. Both partners may never recover (apologies – there's always a bit too much hyperbole in the immediate aftermath of a break-up).

I fell in love with RDZ the first time I saw him. A gorgeous sunny day on Merseyside. A stylish presence, angry on the touchline. Perhaps that Mediterranean charm I'd seen since his arrival had weakened me but it was love at first sight. When he did that little dance after we scored, I wanted to marry him.

Before RDZ, there had been four seminal managers in my lifetime. Micky Adams made me dream. Gus Poyet showed we could play attractive football. Chris Hughton took us to the top flight. G****m P****r made me believe we could go further.

But RDZ? He was something that seemed to encompass every manager who ever made me feel like we could be something special. That we might one day win a trophy. This time last year, I genuinely thought we could win the Europa League. A better draw and less injuries? We actually could have.

I hope – in years to come – that I can look back on that list of five and think, yes, the next one was even better. But right now, it hurts, and it hurts more because he seemed to understand. He got us. And we got him.

There's no surprise that this award-winning publication commissioned a mural of De Zerbi.

RDZ made me love the Albion even more. I wanted to do anything for him. No wonder the players strived to impress him and, with it, for greatness.

The football was the best we've ever seen, performances and results. RDZ became not just a manager but an actual person I admired. So many beautiful memories.

I fully support every yellow card and sending off for berating the officials. The way he joked about us winning convincingly when exiled from the dugout. The way he charmed the media through a frigging interpreter. The way he learned a language. The way he left his family in Italy for us. The way he spoke of his addiction to football and ciggies (I haven't had a smoking Albion hero since Casper Ankergren). The way he celebrated in the crowd. The way he spoke his mind.

And yet, it was that outspokenness that cost him in the end. From January to March barely a week would pass without some thinly (if at all) veiled criticism of the club's transfer policy. In hindsight, the end was inevitable. A renewed vigour in recent weeks gave us hope but ultimately papered over the cracks. And that's why it felt truly devastating on Saturday.

It's disappointing because RDZ knew what we were. A club with a specific plan. A financial model based on buying low and selling high. A model that has been successfully proved on the pitch and balance sheets. A long-term plan to turn the club into a permanent fixture in the top-half of the top division. It's what we are.

But you can also see it from De Zerbi's point of view, nestled behind a cloud of Marlborough Reds (not actually sure what brand he smokes, but he strikes me as a Marlborough red guy). He delivered us European football, our best ever league finish, our highest ever top-flight points tally. And he did it without a pre-season and having sold one of our best players in January. His reward: we sold two of the midfield three that got us there.

There would inevitably be some friction between him and the board, and post-Rome away, didn't he tell us about it!? But, deep down, I hoped he still bought into the model. Way I see it: he wanted a big summer spending budget and Tony Bloom said no. The relationship was broken.

Ultimately, we all know we're Team Tony. We have to be. We've bought into the model, and managers need to as well. Even when they are as affable, ridiculously talented and successful as Professor Sir Roberto De Zerbi.

RDZ was the greatest we've ever had, and I will never forget him or the football his teams produced. Teams like Brighton in Europe.

I still don't really believe it. It's hard to imagine another manager having this much of an impact again. Certainly in under two years. It might still be hyperbolic but I would absolutely love a statue. Maybe Dogma can build one.

And yet, today,48 hours after the departure was announced, I think I'm OK. The break-up was necessary. Opinions too far apart. I wish they could have made it work. But they couldn't. And it might well be better for both of us. We have to believe it will be.

If you're hurting, I understand. I'm not sure my heart ever recovered from the (first!) Micky Adams departure (to become a number two as well, FFS). But time is a great healer. Channel your inner Liam Rosenior (chin up) and Oscar Garcia (we go again), enjoy the summer and get ready for the next barnstorming season as an Albionite. We loved RDZ because he was at our club. We'll have to love the next one, too.

The Albion and RDZ: probably just two stars that burned too bright. But, wasn't it blinding?

UTA