Monday, September 21, 2009

One for the Blues

I tried to avoid clunky relativism when looking for something to sum up the galling events of yesterday. Stone Roses, favourite failed retro-indie band of the 'One Love' Old Trafford crowd, were contenders with How Do You Sleep, but i couldn't bring myself to embed anything with a flat Brown vocal. And i kept coming back to this:

It's been a funny period. just a few days ago i was finishing an affectionate 40th birthday invitation for the United fan partner of my wife's sister. Putting his surname and years on the back of his hero cantona's rolled up collar wasn't being infected with the red peril. it was just a design twist on an iconic image. Now the revulsion is back, even as i know that's pointless against a transparent cartoon criminal such as Baconface and his patently ridiculous views and manipulation of a genuflecting, cum-hungry media, and i am digging up old-school hatred such as this. Haven't felt this wronged since they were given a penalty to settle the Cup derby in the mid-90s, after that Rosler opener.

What gives me succour is that we will inevitably knock Fergie off his fucking perch, and United off theirs. As with all obsessions, like they have with putting us down, it will end in tears. We will get our own modern take on the Dennis Law back-heel. But if football keeps degrading itself at the rate we're currently experiencing (most of it City's fault of course! Look, Bellamy's twatted a Red! Adebayor's raked the Nazi! What next?), I'd have long since taken refuge in something more wholesome like islamofascism instead. 'Course not, Keep the faith.

ps, United fan on a forum: "[I'd also like] a club captain less intellectually challenged and charmless than Gary Neville. I felt ashamed of his behaviour yesterday. I once saw him on Bury Market trying to strike a match on some tripe."
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