Tag Archives: Manchester United

Man Utd, Financial Fair Play and “The United Brand”: a Leeds United Fan Accuses – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 04/03/2015 | 25 comments
Manchester City - Champions for now

Manchester City – Champions for now

As a Leeds United fan first and a lover of football in the broader sense second, I do find myself watching a great deal of Premier League stuff on TV and, clearly, there’s a lot to admire. And admire it I do; I will yield to no man in my ability to appreciate the quality of the Beautiful Game, so beautifully played – usually. And yet, again with my Leeds United head on, it’s rather like being a deprived and starveling urchin, stood barefoot in rags under a rainy sky, shivering in a cold wind, with my hungry nose pressed up against a bright shop window, displaying in glitzy magnificence a cornucopia of desirable things that I can neither reach nor afford. From that point of view, the over-riding emotion is envy, with shades of desire, contempt, hatred and resentment intermingled.

Since football abandoned any pretence at being a sport, or even a working-class opera, starry-eyed idealists such as myself – ancient enough to remember the olden days and once-fashionable things like glory, passion, pride and identity – have been asking themselves one wistful question.

Will we ever have a truly level playing field again?

On the face of it, you’d have to say it’s unlikely, if not completely out of the question. Even in the olden days, it was something of a relative concept. There were rich and poor back then, just as at any time you could mention in the whole of sporting history. There were big fish and there were also small fry. But now, you’re talking whales and plankton – and we all know what whales do to plankton. The gap has widened and inequality has increased fast enough and far enough to put an ecstatic beam on the face of any bloated, plutocratic Tory. And that’s not simply a situation which applies to the extremes of the game.

Even in the Premier League, that much-vaunted bastion of mega-wealth and world-class quality – the best league in the world, according to Sky TV executives (how they must laugh into their paella over that in the strongholds of la Liga) – even there, in the sparkly EPL, there is a rigid class system. There are leagues within this elite league, glass ceilings it’s almost impossible to break through. And that’s a problem being aggravated, ironically, by a device intended, ostensibly, to promote fairness.

The provisions of the Financial Fair Play rules are too complex to lend themselves to easy summary, but – without wishing to sacrifice the integrity of a sincerely-meant blog on the altar of glib over-simplification – the effect of the measures now in force appears to be the protection of “old money” and, by implication, old power. In other words, those who feathered their nests, by whatever means, at the right time and by pretty much any means, are in an advantageous position now, due to long-established income streams. In some cases, those income streams go back a long way, are not necessarily directly connected to football and are reinforced and supported by the modern day mass-media. Let’s take a case in point. Yes, you’ve guessed it – it’s this blog’s old friends Manchester United FC.

Man U were the very epitome of “old money” when the Premier League came into being, but the differentials back then had not been great enough to permit their dominance of the game over the previous 25 years since they last won the genuine English Champions title in the black & white days of 1967. In the interim, first Leeds United and then Liverpool were the big beasts of English football, with occasional cameo appearances from the likes of Arsenal, Everton, Derby and Nottingham Forest. Liverpool’s vice-like grip on the game for almost two decades was a remarkable achievement on as level a playing field as we could possibly have had at the time. But when that field was tilted towards the already cash-rich, merchandise and marketing-savvy mob at the other end of the East Lancs road, Liverpool was one of the clubs that hurtled into the abyss. They’ve never truly recovered. The astounding fact of the matter is that Leeds United have been Champions more recently than Liverpool FC. So, indeed, have Blackburn Rovers – but that was only one of those nasty, plastic ones designed especially for Man U. If the cap fits…

For the first twenty years or so after the Murdoch putsch, the Man U-friendly environment of the Australian’s Sky League kept Fergie’s humourless and joyless troops at the top, with the rest of football gasping its trophy-winning life out under the big red jackboot. Marketing-wise, this was an extremely desirable state of affairs for the money men who now owned the game. They had a leading brand, it was an almost guaranteed winner, and this opened up still further a lucrative global market with literally millions of non-matchgoing mugs the world over, desperate for more and more Man U tat and the Sky dishes for goggleboxes on which to ogle their remote heroes. One major tool in the maintenance of this near-monopoly was the extension and mass-marketing of the “United Brand“.

The United Brand was and is the media’s slavish adoption of the old Man U “there’s only one United” myth – one of the stock lies in any Pride of Devon follower’s little cupboard of self-delusion, along with “biggest in the world”, “greatest team ever”, “most tragic disaster” etc etc. Most of these big fibs are left to the individual glory-hunters themselves to pass on, whenever a likely victim presents him or herself. Talk to a Man U adherent and you’ll see what I mean. If the topic of the Busby Babes comes up, or the Munich Disaster, the Man U fan – football’s equivalent of the pub bore – will assume a far-off, beatific expression, the eyelids drooping over glazed eyes, the voice becoming a cockney drone of indoctrination. Then we’re treated to an adoring monologue of how those doomed Babes would have dominated football, and you’d never then have heard of Leeds United; how the Munich disaster is unparalleled in the history of football tragedy (conveniently ignoring Superga which destroyed the great Torino team in 1949) – and so on and so forth. It’s even understandable, to a degree; a lot of football fans are blinkered and self-obsessed when it comes to their own team. It’s just that Man U fans, encouraged by the club and their own Dads most likely, have raised it to a sort of dreadful art-form; furthermore, they actually do believe all that crap – and they really expect you to as well. They become really quite distressingly emotional when you don’t.

The role of the media in all of this, though, is far more sinister. In pushing the agenda of the United Brand, they are deliberately seeking to marginalise, not just those other Uniteds – most of whom have a more solid claim to that suffix – but all other football clubs, by their blatant elevation of one club onto a pedestal with recognition demanded by repeated use of that one word. United. All of the media do it, and it’s not simply lazy journalism as some suggest.  It’s brand protection, the Pavlovian training of consumers everywhere to hear the word United, and think of the Pride of Devon. It’s endemic within print and broadcast industries now and for a good few years past. You still get the occasional embarrassed little cough when a commentator at Newcastle United v Man U, for instance, refers lovingly to “United” and then hastily clarifies that he means the team in the Chevrolet shirts of course, not the other lot, whoever they might be. They don’t want to be thought of as biased and unprofessional, after all – even though that’s precisely what they are.

Not everyone is taken in by all of this, of course. It’s a mass-indoctrination tool of the type big marketeers have used down the decades; the target group tending to be the bottom fifty percent of the intelligence scale. Which I know sounds invidious and possibly even condescending – but that doesn’t mean it’s untrue. But there has always been a sector of the public determined to resist such blandishments; so it quite rightly is where the United Brand is concerned. However, this subliminal campaign has been omnipresent and all-pervasive for such a long time now, and sadly the relatively small voice of protest tends to fall on deaf – probably dumb as well – ears.

The truth is, of course, that Newton Heath aren’t a true United, as for instance Newcastle are, or Leeds, or arguably West Ham – or even Oxford and Torquay. “United” in a football context refers to a club with the exclusive occupancy of its catchment area, no direct rivals sharing the same patch. Man U aren’t the only only United – that’s self-evident to anyone who can count. But here’s the thing: it isn’t just that they’re neither the only nor yet the first United. They’re not even a genuine one – because of the spoiling factor of having neighbours and rivals in the same area. So, sadly for the Pride of Devon, current Champions Manchester City ruin this particular myth for them – as they have ruined so much else lately.

Which brings us on to the current peril threatening the United Brand. The clear and present danger of being caught up and overtaken by one or more rivals. And – oops! – it’s already happened. Man City and Chelsea fight over the title, the likes of Arsenal, Spurs, Liverpool, even Southampton are scrapping to keep Man U out of the Champions League spot they regard as the very least of their divine rights. What to do?? Extend the Champions League qualification criteria again, to make sure the untouchables stay in the fold? It’s been done before. But beware of diluting the product to the point its taste becomes insipid. Hmmm, we’ll have to find some other way.

OK, how about this. If you can’t beat ’em – nobble ’em. The upstart clubs who have overtaken the Chosen Ones will have to be hamstrung, their income streams restricted and made inaccessible to them. How else to restore the accepted order and have the United Brand back at the top? And it has to be done quickly, before all of those millions of eager tat consumers lose their motivation, become discouraged, cease to be market movers and slavishly obedient commercial fodder.

And, lo and behold, we have Financial Fair Play, which decrees that what are seen as subordinate clubs may not be funded into competitiveness by a *spit* sugar daddy. They may not presume to compete with the clubs who are deemed to have accrued their riches through on-field success, global merchandising, exploiting historical tragedies, whatever. There’s a right way, for those who presume to control the game – the United Brand way – and there’s a wrong way, which encompasses pretty much anything a club which aspires to rise to the top could possibly do. The game’s rulers are pro-competition alright – but they’re not going to get all sentimental and misty-eyed over it, not to the extent that their preferred brand no longer dominates. The Old Guard – Man U, Real Madrid, Bayern Munich et al – must remain the Old Guard, the ruling cartel. Anything else is dangerous, because it diffuses attention, which imperils consumer focus. It’s just bad for business, old boy.

So, we’ll have just enough competition to keep things interesting – to keep the mugs hooked and consuming – but we’ll draw the line when a chosen Brand, deliberately created and carefully, remorselessly hyped, appears to be in danger of slipping from the pinnacle of the game.  FFP is all about maintaining the status quo and keeping inconvenient Johnny-come-latelys down where they belong. And the tragic thing is – it’ll probably work.

But what does the future hold if this does work as presumably intended? Because what we have here is an ever-inflating bubble, increasingly shiny and enormous as it catches all the lime-light, reflecting gaudy and brilliant shimmerings of iridescent glory. It’s huge and it’s pretty – the kind of thing to cause a child, or other similarly naive person, to stop in their tracks and gaze, open-mouthed and round-eyed in innocent wonderment. But any bubble must burst eventually, leaving that child in disappointed tears. The path we are currently set upon, seemingly committed to, can have only one end. Look at the most recent Sky and other media deal, look at the billions involved at a time of austerity in society at large (unless you’re rich…). Who do you think that colossal, obscene cost is going to be passed on to? What will be the consequences when gates start to dip? Nothing is forever.

In a hundred years time, when those with long, long memories look back and reflect on what they have seen in their lives, what their grandfathers have told them, too – when they wonder whatever happened to that grand old game they used to call football – they may wish to search for a guilty party to blame for the death of something that used to give such pleasure to so many. If that comes to pass – as I fear eventually it must – then there will be a few likely candidates to carry the can. One will certainly be the long dead Mr Murdoch of evil memory. Who can say what his eventual legacy will be, not just for football, but for society at large? Another might be a club in Man U that used once upon a time to be legendary, a symbol of fine football and hope for the future. But this club will more likely instead be remembered as a model of arrogance and greed; the club that started the FA Cup off on its slow decline towards death (by being the first to withdraw from it); the club that manipulated the game for twenty years at the start of the Premier League, and perverted a “whole new ball game” into a nightmare of greed, cynicism and conspicuous consumerism.

For my part, I won’t point the finger at an individual or a club. Well, maybe I would a bit – if I were still above ground to do so. But I think it’ll be artificial concepts and restrictive legislation that’ll be the death of the game in the end. And I’ll miss it – but I’ll be glad I was there at the end of the golden era, almost a quarter of a century ago now, when my club Leeds United were the Kings of English Football – just as it entered its terminal phase. And I’ll be certain in my own mind as to exactly where the guilt for that fatal process truly lies.

Financial Fair Play and “The United Brand”: j’accuse.

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Leeds United to Miss Out as FA Introduce Selective New “Joker” Rule – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 24/02/2015 | 6 comments
I heff het...enOUGH of losink. I em playink - our JOKER in all games now.

I heff het…enOUGH of losink. I em playink…our JOKER in all games now

It hardly comes as news to the fans of Leeds United, long used to English football’s tiresome habit of “playing favourites”, that there is some perplexity in the corridors of power about the inability of the “most popular club” to win the league title. Since a certain choleric Glaswegian shuffled off into the sunset to brood over old feuds and current grievances, the supply of plastic EPL titles for Club Popular has dried up somewhat, much to the chagrin of the suits. Needless to say, that most popular club is not located in LS11 – the Whites of Elland Road occupy a ranking at the other end of the adulation scale, with the game’s administrators being accustomed to wrinkle their noses slightly if forced to acknowledge Leeds’ existence, affecting a rather pained expression, as if they were suffering patiently in the presence of some noxious odour.

No, the “most popular” – naturally – are the club I joshingly if not exactly fondly refer to as the Pride of Devon – due to their vast appeal to the more insecure type of West Country glory-hunter. But they’re all the rage in parts of London too, this lot – as well as Wales, Ireland, Milton Keynes, Barnsley, for God’s sake – and not to mention great chunks of the Far East and even isolated neighbourhoods in less salubrious areas of Manchester itself. 

The dilemma faced by the game’s rulers appears to be a matter of clear and present danger to those earnest men in their sober garb, as they brandish calculators and contemplate massive markets, domestic and foreign, previously of great productivity, with bale after bale of tatty replica Sharp, AIG or Chevrolet shirts being demanded every high day and holiday by precocious Man U-supporting spoilt brats. Having expressed concern over the poor form of the EPL Golden Boys, the Premier League CEO Richard Scudamore is now rumoured to have come up with a foolproof plan to redress the balance and get away from the current, annoyingly level playing field in English top flight football. The Chief’s idea is the product of much serious thought and an increasing awareness that the problem of Man U’s chronic lack of dominance is not going away anytime soon. Now, Scudamore has allegedly been inspired by the popular summer evening silly games contest of the mid 1970s, It’s A Knockout, to come up with a novel solution to a thorny problem.

Uncle Stuart - butter wouldn't melt

Uncle Stuart – butter wouldn’t melt

For those of us of a certain age, that evocative theme music is just so reminiscent of long summer evenings when we were young; coming home from playing football on the village green, hot and dusty and pleasantly tired, ready to sit down, relax – and enjoy some more seemingly innocent fun as good old “Uncle” Stuart Hall treated us to his dulcet tones, his manic laugh – but thankfully not the gift of his intimate acquaintance. Genial old rugby league fart Eddie Waring bumbled about in the background, sounding ever more like a Mike Yarwood impression of himself, joining in with Hall for the title of maddest chortler. It was quintessential family entertainment, or so it seemed in those pre-Operation Yewtree days.

Happy days, for some. But the appeal of It’s A Knockout was – thankfully – more down to the nuttiness of the games and the rules, than any peculiarities of the show’s host. The contests were between a number of teams representing various obscure towns around the UK. Massive costumes figured heavily, huge false heads on them which would put Joe Royle or even Wayne Rooney to shame, colourful, crazy, hilarious. There was water, there were custard pies, there were enough card-carrying prats to ensure pratfalls aplenty – it was hilarious, playful anarchy – and the presenters could be heard crying with mirth as the participants struggle gamely. Nobody was too bothered about the scoring system – and yet it was one bizarre element of this which may now restore Man U to what the suits see as that troubled franchise’s rightful place at the top of the English game.

The idea is that Man U – at their own discretion – will be able to “play their joker” whenever the need arises. It’s important to emphasise that this is not a reference to the team selection and the appearance in a Man U shirt of Angel di Maria or the latest “next George Best”. Rather, it is a maverick twist to the scoring system of any particular game – whereby the team playing its joker will have any subsequent score doubled.

Scudamore is believed to favour a refinement of this system, seeing the Man U joker double the value of any goal scored, rule out any goal against them, or produce a penalty on demand, regardless of where play happens to be on the field. It is envisaged that this would enable even a team managed by a total incompetent – or “onbekwaam” as Mijnheer van Gaal’s compatriots would say – to prevail in most games. Theoretically, at least, the return of the Pride of Devon to the summit of the game would be assured – and the Theatre of Hollow Myths would once again ring to the rafters with songs of West Country and cockney triumphalism.

One important feature of the new system is that – surprise, surprise, Leeds fans – it would not be open to all teams, as that would merely introduce an annoyingly random element whilst maintaining what is seen as an undesirable status quo. The conditions of entitlement so far envisaged are extremely stringent; only clubs who can demonstrate that every single one of their FA Cup ties since 2005 has been televised live on TV – even when they’ve played no-hopers at home (Exeter and Cambridge, for example. Or Leeds United…) – will have the option of “playing their Joker”. It has been concluded that only one club, based just outside Manchester, would fall within these parameters. Coincidentally, the identity of this randomly selected club would fit in precisely with Mr Scudamore’s idea for the future of the game.

Scudamore is said to be delighted with his plan. and hopes that its introduction will be a new start for English football, with better times ahead for all – unless you happen to be a fan of Chelsea, Arsenal, Liverpool, Manchester City – or indeed any club that lacks the postcode M16 0RA.

Louis van Gaal, 83, is an extreme embarrassment.

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How Premier League CEO Scudamore Blew the Gaff on Man Utd Bias – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 22/02/2015 | 50 comments
Pet lip: Premier League CEO Scudamore misses those Man U days of success

Pet lip: Premier League CEO Scudamore misses those Man U days of success

As a Leeds United fanatic, a card-carrying cynic and someone with no faith in the football authorities these days to run a fair and disinterested league competition, I have written many times on this blog about my belief that the Man U domination of the game in this country after 1993 (the FA Premier League début season) was deeply suspicious. The last season or so’s steep decline, with a squad not at first markedly different to the one that romped home in Taggart’s final season, begs the question: what’s really different? It has appeared ever since The Demented One left that the change of stewardship is behind this relative failure. But was Alex Ferguson the sole factor in the unprecedented success enjoyed by the Pride of Devon over the last two decades?

These days, following a series of revealing comments over the past year or so from people who should know whereof they speak, it appears that at least a couple of other factors have been at play throughout that twenty year period. I have said over and over again in Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything, that the Fergie years have been trophy-laden for three well-defined reasons, none of them all that adjacent to the quality of their playing squad. They may be summed up as: Ferguson, match officials and the rulers of the game itself. These three influences conspired over two decades to exaggerate the success of Man U out of all proportion to the abilities of their playing and coaching staff in that period, many of whom have gone on to enjoy sustained mediocrity elsewhere. Add into the mix the drip, drip, drip effect of blind, unquestioning media adulation, spearheaded by Murdoch’s Sky empire and endorsed by lapdog attitudes from the terrestrial broadcasters who know which side the commercial bread is buttered, and you have what is technically known as a “Scum-friendly environment”.

This may to the unwary sound like just another conspiracy theory.  But you only have to look at the unprecedented before and after picture of Man U’s record pre-Murdoch as compared to their success under Uncle Rupert. After all, we’re talking an almost total domination of the Premier League era here, by a club that – for the 26 years immediately preceding the league reorganisation – couldn’t buy a title. Seven times Champions in their whole history prior to 1993, and then thirteen Premier League titles in the first twenty years after Rupert Murdoch bought the game.

That’s such a sharp delineation between failure and success – it’s not coincidental that the demarcation line is the inception of the Premier League, the changing of football in this country from a sport to a brand – and the new understanding that the game was now about markets and money to a much greater extent than it had ever been before. Man U were the new brand leader, and they had better succeed – or the Premier League product might not fulfil its immense potential for dominating the world in terms of TV audiences, syndication and merchandising. And that would never do. So the game leant the way of the Man U scum – as we at Leeds United fondly refer to them – and the pressure applied by Ferguson to match officials was allowed to take effect. Professional sport is a matter of extremely fine margins; a slight bias over a long period will skew outcomes to a massive degree – and that’s exactly what has happened.

Naturally, none of this has ever been acknowledged. It’s been of paramount importance, after all, that the Premier League should at least retain the appearance of being a fair competition, on the proverbial level playing field. But now – Ferguson has gone, Man U are failing, the referees are not by any means as intimidated, opposing teams are not scared any more; not, as they used to be, beaten before they took the field. And now people are speaking out, very revealingly – and in some cases that is clearly intentional, in other cases less so. Ex-referee Graham Poll is one who has made his views known quite deliberately; he has spoken out about the feelings of a ref in the Fergie years, how the priority was to get off the field without having made any close calls against Man U – and, ideally, with them having won the game. What is the cumulative effect of that kind of insidious pressure over twenty years? Self-evidently, it’s significant; look at the trophy records, the penalty for and against statistics, the time added on if Man U weren’t winning – and so on and so forth.

Poll has also written about the unprecedented scenes when three penalties were given against Man U in a home game against old rivals Liverpool. Even though things have changed in terms of the favourable decisions enjoyed by Man U, these were the first penalties awarded against Man U as the home team since December 2011 – well over two years without conceding a home league penalty. Poll’s observations on that make for interesting reading for anyone who, as I do, strongly suspects that Man U had it easy from match officials in the Fergie years.

And then, to put the tin lid on it, we had Premier League Chief Executive Richard Scudamore sounding off, in earnestly worried tones, about how the Premier League “brand” is being adversely affected by the difficulties Man U were having last season (happily, it’s carried on in pretty much the same vein this time around). It’s difficult to believe that he was quite aware of the import of what he was saying – this was a tacit admission, after all, that the supposedly disinterested rulers of the game actually have a vested interest – as I’ve been saying long and loud – in the regular success of Man U. “It’s a double-edged sword,” said Scudamore, at the time. “When your most popular club isn’t doing as well, that costs you interest and audience in some places.” The hapless Peter doesn’t identify the other edge of that sword, but he’s clearly perturbed by the prospect of a future with Man U as the also-rans they’ve been this last two campaigns.

Speaking in greater depth about the ethos of the Premier League, as well as its duty to fans around the world, Scudamore went on: “There are lots of fans around the world who wish Manchester United were winning it again. But you have to balance that off against, generally, we’re in the business of putting on a competition and competition means people can compete.” The wistful tone of that last sentence was massively telling. Other clubs will insist on competing, particularly now that Ferguson is history. How very inconvenient and bad for business. What a deuced bore.

The FA Premier League mandarins at a high level clearly see even competition, where any old Tom, Dick or Manuel (or even Jose) can win the League, as their cross to bear, something that will inhibit their ability to market their “brand” around a global audience in thrall to Man U. But they have made a rod for their own back in allowing the creation of that trophy-winning monster, under the inimical sway of a tyrant from Govan, to become so all-consuming in the first place. Now they’re reaping what they have sown – in pumping up the bubble of unrealistic success for one favoured club, they have left themselves without a Plan B for when that bubble bursts – as bubbles inevitably will.

For real football people – the fans out here, the people who have always gone along to the match, with little if any thought of global markets and syndication deals – this new reality of genuine competition has come as a breath of fresh air. There’s a new top four out there, of varied make-up which usually excludes Man U, and they’ve all played wonderful football and succeeded on their own merits.

We’ve also seen less of the media-beloved “mind games” which are so tiresome to the fan in the street. We’ve not missed that old curmudgeon, railing at authority whenever he gets any less than his own way and intimidating anybody who gets in his way. Football seems fresh and new again; Man U were seventh last time – which is probably about where they should have finished the season before. The first twenty years of the Premier League can be seen as a statistical blip, the product of a tyrant dominating and bullying the people charged with the responsibility to see that the game is run fairly. The evidence is there; listen to Poll, listen to what Scudamore is actually saying. Look at the results and standings this season and last.

We’re so very sorry, Mr Scudamore, if your product and your brand are suffering from the failure of “your most popular club”. Perhaps you should take the view that popularity is there to be earned by whichever club can succeed on merit? That it’s not something to be inculcated by the favourable treatment of one chosen club, amounting to institutional bias over twenty long years. Perhaps you can learn that – and then all we will have to regret is the two decades when, aided by Ferguson and a terrified cadre of referees and officials, you – blatantly and with malice aforethought – sold the game down the river.

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BBC: ‘Eastenders’ Goes For Cockney Cred by Introducing Man U Family – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 21/02/2015 | 10 comments
Mr Harris and his ex-pug wife

Cockney reds, Mr. Reg “Prawn Baron” Harris and his ex-pug wife, Frankie Knuckles

Any soap-addicted Leeds United fan will be able to recall the most legendary reference to football in the BBC’s flagship offering, Eastenders. Saying farewell to a departing character bound for a new life “Ap Norf” in Leeds, Mark Fowler (played by Grange Hill‘s Tucker Jenkins) extolled the sporting virtues of West Yorkshire’s Number One city. “They’ve got a good football team!” he enthused, raising a glass in the Queen Vic and causing manly chests all over the Broad Acres to swell still further with justified pride. After all, at that time, the “good team” thing wasn’t even an exaggeration, as David O’Leary modestly watched “moy babies” take all comers apart with consummate ease. It was all a long, long time ago.

Now, though, as part of its quest to bring maximum realism even to its soap opera output – and building on the recent publicity surrounding the Eastenders’ 30th anniversary – the BBC has announced it will be introducing a family of Man U fans to Albert Square. It’s a move some regard as long overdue, reasoning that it’s impossible accurately to reflect life in the capital without a proliferation of glory-hunting, armchair-dwelling, plastic “cockney reds” skulking around every corner, tragically clad in the latest tacky 4th away strip. The Eastenders production office has promised us a family who will breezily reinforce all of those too-true stereotypes that make Man U the club we all just love to hate – even now that they’re crap.

The head of the family, a retired East-End boxer named Frankie “Knuckles” Kray, rules her household with an iron fist inside a chain-mail glove. No stranger to violence, she can be relied upon regularly to engage in some aggro in the Queen Vic, claiming afterwards that it was Leeds fans on the way back from Chelsea. Frankie is 46 and started supporting Man U as long ago as 1993. She is already on her fourth armchair.

Her common-law husband, Reg Harris, has also been a Man U fan since 1993, prior to which he had supported Liverpool from afar, only defecting when they “turned rabbish, squire, and stopped winning nuffink.” He is buoyed up in his change of allegiance by the fact that his hero, Zoe Ball, did exactly the same thing in order to revive a flagging career. Reg, who is in the Norwegian prawns import racket, says that supporting Man U has had a similarly positive effect on his own fortunes. He now supplies the executive boxes at the Theatre of Hollow Myths, and names Roy Keane as his least favourite player ever. He has never been to a football match, believing that he needs an up-to-date passport to venture north of Watford.

There are two children in the Kray/Harris family, Ryan and Eric. The lads were born in 2000 and 2009 respectively (coincidentally, nine months after each of the Pride of Devon‘s two most recent Champions League flukes). Both boys are fiercely proud and lifelong Man U fans who are now seriously considering defecting to Chelsea to avoid being ribbed and tweaked at school. Most of their mates have already switched clubs since Sir Taggart retired, and the lads now find themselves frustrated in their instinctive glory-hunting tendencies and laughed at by the teachers. Despite such ideological doubts, however, both are still forced by their parents to sleep in branded Cantona Kung-Fu pyjamas and, emotionally scarred, have been in touch with the NSPCC twice about this. Ryan, the elder brother, has been force-fed Quorn since he was weaned and is consequently bow-legged and afflicted with boils, wind and close-set eyes.

The BBC are certain that the introduction of this family, with all of its obvious tragicomic potential, is a sure-fire ratings winner. “We expect to consolidate our pre-eminent viewing figures position in London and the Home Counties,” said a Corporation spokesperson, “as well as making inroads in the West Country and Devon/Cornwall. We may even pick up the odd viewer in the North…” he speculated, feverishly, as he checked the JICTAR figures on his iPhone.

Dirty “Den” Watts, erstwhile West Ham supporter, is dead. Twice.

 

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Leeds United Fans Recognised as “Simply the Best” – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 19/02/2015 | 15 comments

Alright, we all knew that anyway – but it’s good to have it confirmed. As this video certainly does. If there are any quibbles, they are further down the list than Leeds United’s pre-eminent, undisputed Number One status. Take the number twos, for instance – actually that’s not a bad nickname for Man U. But they shouldn’t be there – they should be disqualified.

After all, this is about away support – and, as we all know, Man U have a bunch of plastic glory-hunters living just around the corner from every football stadium in the Universe – and they only ever prise their arses out of the traditional armchair when their favourites happen to visit the locality once every blue moon (fnarr).

Besides which – can you hear the solo voices in that supposed mass chant near the end of their bit? Flat as a fart. They couldn’t be any more out of tune without coming back into tune again. So they should be out for that, too.

And Newcastle?? Ouch. And cringe. It’s those accents, isn’t it? Those lugubrious vowel sounds come ear-achingly out of even a reasonably well-sung song. And “Pardew is our King”?? They hated him, wanted to kill him and render him down for pease pudding to flog to Mackems on Wearside. How hypocritical. Disqualified.

You can make up your own minds about the rest of it – or just let it be, and bask in the glory, glory of Leeds being acknowledged as the top away crowd anywhere.

Not that there was ever any doubt.

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Man United Cup Penalty Sheds Light on Leeds Failed Spot Kick Claims – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 17/02/2015 | 14 comments
IMG_7994

Last night’s Deepdale judges panel, deeply impressed by a flawless Rooney dive

The Man U victory over Preston North End in the FA Cup 5th Round (Jubilate Deo – FL) has not only disappointed all right-thinking Leeds fans, who had hoped for a slice of history to be served up once again, reheated yet still as delicious – it has also highlighted the technical deficiencies of the recent spate of failed Leeds United penalty claims.

Leeds players, management, staff and fans – everybody, in fact, right down to Mrs Miggins in the players’ canteen – have been unanimous in their outrage and disbelief, as well as outraged disbelief and disbelieving outrage, over a series of penalty box incidents in which Leeds players have been either hacked down, sent flying, half-murdered, knouted, burned at the stake, keelhauled, kneecapped, scalped, napalmed, beaten about the head, given the Chinese burn or flayed alive – and yet no penalties have been given. It’s been nigh on unbelievable, said a Whites official disbelievingly. There’s been a couple of blatant handballs in there too, as well as an attempted coup by a well-known former chairman and something well dodgy involving hedge funds, traceable to the same source. Not once has the whistle sounded for a spot kick, despite the local casualty ward being overrun by near fatally injured Leeds players, all assaulted in the box, or something similarly embarrassing and painful.

But now new and highly convenient information has come to light regarding a little-known but currently preferred method of assessing penalty claim validity. The new guidelines are amply illustrated by the penalty awarded to Man U at Deepdale in last night’s cup tie. A top football administrator was kind enough to explain: “Firstly, as we can see on the TV replay, no contact whatsoever was made by the defender with the diving player, Sir Wayne Rooney of England and St George. This is a vital point – we can’t risk injury to England’s top diver. Secondly, the player not fouled was wearing a Manchester United shirt – again, this is absolutely pivotal to the success of these claims. And thirdly, we were drawing a ga… Ahem. I mean Mighty Man U were drawing a game we – they – needed to win. A combination of these factors will always mean a nailed-on penalty award, especially if Sir Wayne feels that he wants to score a goal. In cases of doubt, an independent panel can rule in favour of Sir Wayne using our extraordinary, super-special “TCP” – Tantrum Containment Protocol  – (see picture above)”

“Clearly, the recent claims by Leeds United for penalties have fallen down when assessed by any and all of these three scrupulously fair indices. Furthermore, an examination of the penalties awarded against Leeds will reveal that no contact has been made in the majority of those cases, constituting an obvious prima facie case for penalty awards under the “It’s OK Cos It’s Against The Damned United” Provisions, 2007 (and ibid.) In most of those cases where Leeds were correctly penalised, these were technical matters where the ref simply had to award a penalty, or he may have had to caution the diving player – and risk handing an advantage to Leeds in contravention of prevailing League policy. You see? This was the clinching factor in Sir Wayne’s beautiful dive and claim at Preston – we were well aware of the strong desire among Leeds fans for Preston to win, and thus revive memories of that tragic occasion on January 3rd 2010. It was just Hobson’s choice, as you can’t fail to appreciate.”

Having got the nagging penalty mystery cleared up, it is still hoped, in some quarters at Elland Road, that an explanation may yet be forthcoming over apparent “fit and proper” anomalies. These are seemingly straightforward instances of perverse judgement whereby rapists, grand larcenists, porn barons and jailed money launderers are somehow deemed “squeaky clean”, technically speaking, instead of – as one might expect – “a right nasty, evil bunch of bent bastards who should be doing hard labour on bread and water at Devil’s Island Penitentiary, without the option” – to use another esoteric legal term. Our Football Administration source declined to comment on this point, explaining that he had an appointment for new glasses and his head polishing.

Shaun Harvey is bald and half blind.

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Police-Basher Holloway Needs to Recognise the Millwall Fan Problem – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 16/02/2015 | 10 comments
Holloway: we'd have done it, too, if it wasn't for those pesky cops

Holloway: we’d have done it, too, if it wasn’t for those pesky cops

If this week had been about which football manager could make the biggest fool of himself, then we might very well have ended up with a dead heat between Millwall boss Ian Holloway and the manager of fallen giants Man U, Louis van Gaal. It was the Theatre of Hollow Myths boss that got off to a flying start, reacting petulantly to the jibes of former Fergie poodle Sam Allardyce that the Pride of Devon had metamorphosed into the Pride of Wimbledon, playing a long ball game to thwart the cultured Hammers.

Even Giggs facepalms at the van Gaal outburst

Even Giggs facepalms at the van Gaal outburst

To say that van Gaal was displeased is somewhat to understate the matter. To say that his production of copious paperwork (which he waved wildly and employed to lecture the assembled press) caused some bemusement and raised eyebrows would be hopelessly inadequate. There were embarrassed mutterings and rolled eyes aplenty, among the press and even in certain of the Man U staff present. It was all excruciatingly, gratifyingly cringeworthy.

So, it’s looking very much as though that club has done it again, making a formerly quite sane person head rapidly for the margins of weirdness. They did it to Cantona, they did it (and how) to the already rabidly eccentric Ferguson; even poor David Moyes in his brief spell went slightly doolally. Surely it’s only a matter of time before van Gaal’s presser consists of a single word, the Dutch equivalent of “Wibble” from a wild-eyed Louis with underpants on his head and pencils up his nose. In a club as distantly separated from reality as Man U, it’s just something that happens, figuratively at least.

Millwall manager Ian Holloway, meanwhile, quite possibly has a head start over the previously rational van Gaal in the craziness stakes. Holloway, after all, has solid form for a bit of casual verbal lunacy, as witness his various pre- and post-match pronouncements – especially during a brief Premier League heyday at Blackpool. And let’s not forget, he was a full week behind the Man U manager in the race for any “Nutter of the Moment” Award – but once he got going, he seemed set fair to surge past the Dutchman into pole position, with an incredible outburst after his team’s defeat at Elland Road on Saturday. Eschewing the normal managerial options of blaming the ref, or the pitch, or Lady Luck, Ian has zoomed straight to the extreme end of the loony scale – and he’s pointed his quivering finger directly at that fine body of men and women, the West Yorkshire Police.

Yes, folks – Millwall slumped to defeat not because they were crap and not because Leeds did well enough to overcome them on the field of play. It was those awful West Yorks coppers, victimising the poor old ‘Wall, insisting that their choirboy-innocent fans should have to obtain match-day vouchers, to be exchanged for tickets at a pre-arranged motorway services meeting point. This naturally resulted – as those evil, plotting police had obviously foreseen – in a reduction in the Millwall away support to a paltry couple of hundred. The main big brave boys stopped at home – as they have done for the last few meetings at Elland Road. And, as ever, there’s at least one pisspoor online news outlet ready to join in with some ill-informed and way off beam Leeds bashing, even when – as in this case – it’s the Police being bashed, for once, instead of the club. “Give Me Sport“? Give me strength… 

Mr. Holloway is clearly not a man to let a few inconvenient truths get in the way of a frankly ridiculous conspiracy theory. The fact that other clubs with notorious fans among their away support have had similar measures imposed, and yet have still managed to take a large and vociferous following on the road, seems to have escaped Ian entirely. Or has he, in his sudden madness, simply chosen not to see it? Leeds at Cardiff is an obvious example. How nice it would be to blame the Welsh Constabulary for our regular defeats in the Principality. But sanity sadly forbids and facts get in the way too. Bubble match or no bubble match, Leeds are out in force at Cardiff, as they always are, everywhere. Millwall included.

Holloway insists that it’s “time to stop tarnishing Millwall supporters with the mistakes of the past” and suggested West Yorkshire police were “too lazy to deal with the situation in a less draconian way”. All well and good – but imagine the row and disastrous fallout if the WY Police had been as complacent as Holloway would seemingly wish. What if the cops had taken a more relaxed and casual attitude, only to find that a numerically stronger set of Millwall fans had travelled without let or hindrance? What if that carefree band had then decided that some mayhem was in order, some provocation of the locals with tasteful references to Turks and knives, perhaps – with ensuing battles and inevitable broken heads and bloodshed? The police would be a bit embarrassed, wouldn’t they? And Holloway himself would have to look elsewhere for his excuses.

I’m not always here to bury rather than praise a man, simply because he has the misfortune to manage Millwall. After Leeds’ opening day defeat at the New Den, I highlighted Holloway’s timely and sensible remarks about the conduct of his club’s animal fans on that occasion. He spoke frankly, and there was no suggestion of the delusion that such a famously degraded bunch of sick thugs had suddenly grown wings and acquired harps. And yet now, here he is – wanting to deflect attention away from defeat, and seemingly ready to deny the reality of Millwall’s gutter-trash fans in order to find any excuse. I’m honestly baffled and, I have to say, he’s gone down in my estimation – as I know he has in many other Leeds fans’ views. He’s possibly tried to come out with something novel and pungent, but has succeeded only in making himself appear ridiculous, which is a shame. Amused and gleeful Leeds fans have been tweeting the West Yorkshire Police, thanking them for their efforts in achieving victory for United. Holloway has basically contrived to hand the irony initiative to the massive on-line Leeds United presence, and who can blame them for proceeding to hang him out to dry in plain view of a global audience? 

It’s high time, in fact, that Holloway recognised and acknowledged exactly what he has on his hands – which is a bunch of supporters who will always let their club down with sick taunts, violent behaviour and a determination to live up to their injured-innocence anthem “No-one likes us, we don’t care“. They’re the worst in football, bar none outside of Istanbul. Millwall the club are complacent and complaisant in the face of this, always ready to minimise the impact of these cretins on the unfortunates they meet along the way, always ready to offer excuses and blame somebody – anybody – else. That’s the situation, and Holloway appears to have shifted from an early season position of recognising and being dismayed by it, to slavishly following his club’s abhorrent line – even to the extent of coming out with such bizarrely ridiculous rubbish as these deeply silly “Policegate” remarks.

A message to Mr. Holloway from Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything. You’re a decent man, Ian – and even a half-decent manager. But you work for a scum club with scum fans – as the contents of my email inbox demonstrate every time I have the temerity to write honestly about them. Time to wise up, acknowledge the truth and stop speaking rubbish. If you’re lucky, you’ll be sacked after relegation; perhaps then you can be a proper man at a proper football club again.

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Leeds Legends Grayson and Beckford to Oust Man U AGAIN?? – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 16/02/2015 | 18 comments
Jermaine scores at the Beckford End

Jermaine scores at the Beckford End

Ever since Simon Grayson‘s Preston North End sent the Blunts of Bramall Lane a-spinning out of the FA Cup last month, the question has been on every Leeds fan’s mind if not lips: could two Leeds United legends (and Neil Kilkenny) possibly do it again?? Because that Fourth Round replay set up a tasty if only partial rematch of an epic battle over five years ago (January 3rd, remember the date) between a lowly incarnation of The Damned United and – well – the club we just love to hate, as the song nearly has it. And tonight, at Deepdale, there is just a chance of that particularly fine piece of history repeating itself.

You may have noticed that we are occasionally fond of recalling this singular occasion at #LLUUE Towers – but anyway, here goes again. It was on January 3rd 2010 that third-tier Leeds United ventured to the home of the Champions of England and self-proclaimed “Greatest Club in the World”™ – lined up (so everybody outside of the Whites fraternity thought) for a ‘lambs to the slaughter’ bit part on the massive FA Cup Round Three national stage.

In the event, Leeds entered the Theatre of Hollow Myths as if determined to prove it was just that. There was zero respect for technically far superior foes, zero fear of the occasion and, vitally, zero awe of their surroundings for a team whose 9,000 strong following often made this feel like a home game, out-singing over six times that number of morose and disbelieving southern glory-hunters.

Leeds, set up to take the game to their hosts by manager Grayson – who may well also have made motivational use of a “minnows” jibe carelessly hurled by the ever-confident Man U – clinched this tie early in the first half. Johnny Howson‘s sublime long ball dropped like a dead bird into the path of predator extraordinaire Jermaine Beckford. The striker recovered from a slightly heavy first touch with a characteristic burst of pace, which allowed him to make a monkey out of Wes Brown and roll the ball, oh so exquisitely, into the far corner of the Pride of Devon net. The commentary of the moment deserves another airing for its sheer iconic beauty:

 “And this is Beckford, it’s just run away from him but he’ll still get a strike in on goal … and score at the Stretford End for Leeds United! And it doesn’t get any better than that for a Leeds United centre forward….. Jermaine Beckford gives Leeds the advantage at Old Trafford to the delight of their 9,000 travelling supporters!”

The way those words paint that picture, the one that every Leeds fan carries on the back of his eyelids to this day, still has the hair-raising, spine-tingling ability to thrill. It’s so graphic, so evocative of the joy of the moment, just so bloody wonderful. Leeds United’s eleven warriors on the pitch, together with their comrades in the dugout, were just about the only people of a Leeds persuasion not to get carried away with the emotion and wonder of it all. They, after all, still had a job to do.

How they set about that job, calmly, resolutely, professionally, is every bit as memorable and significant as the goal that won the tie. A third-tier team in the champs’ back yard might be forgiven for mounting a rearguard action, protecting – if they could – the advantage they’d gained. But not a bit of it. It was just too early for that. Leeds had threatened before the goal, and they continued to threaten, taking the game to the shocked Premiership outfit, playing with a swagger and effectiveness that belied the gulf in status. They had to sustain some pressure, they had to defend desperately at times. That was only to be expected. But they also continued to pose that nagging threat, right up to the end – Beckford was played through beautifully by Doyle in the second half and placed his shot a fraction wide at the Scoreboard End. Robert Snodgrass, fresh into the fray, stepped up to take a free-kick with that sublime left foot – and hammered it agonisingly to thud against the angle of far post and bar with the keeper nowhere near.

In the end, nails were bitten down to the elbows as the Man U desperation grew and the penalty appeals mounted up. Surely, as per the unwritten law, Mr Foy would give at least one? Meanwhile, Ferguson, the man with the schnoz of vintage purple, prowled about on his touchline, brandishing that yard-wide stopwatch, snarling at all and sundry when “only” five minutes of Fergie time were granted. Rooney, the thug, clattered into a Leeds player right in front of the away dugout, and then hurried away as the Whites backup team tried to get at him. It was frenetic, it was aggressive, it was committed – and it was simply marvellous.

And then, Leeds had done it. Memorably, the ball had gone out for a Whites corner as the final whistle blew with Leeds at the right end of the field. Old Trafford emptied in about thirty seconds flat, apart from the dancing, cheering 9,000 at that right end, with their songs and their glory, celebrating the most famous victory of all their wilderness years.

The personnel behind that wonderful performance and memorable triumph have all long gone from the club now. The real principals – Simon Grayson and Jermaine Beckford – are both at tonight’s potential giant-killers Preston; and you can guarantee that the memories will be flooding back for them, even now, as they contemplate a chance to have another go at the Masters of Hype. This is what will make the difference tonight between a mundane 5th Round Cup tie involving two ordinary Lancashire outfits – and a chance to relive history, perhaps to recreate it to some extent. League One Preston have the home advantage; let it pay off for them – and let Simon Grayson, Leeds fan and United legend, have another Cup day in the sun.

And… if Jermaine could possibly pop up with another winner – well, that would be as perfect as it could possibly get – short of him doing it all over again, wearing that famous white shirt and wheeling away in triumph once more… right in front of the Beckford End.

 

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More Trouble for Leeds United as Manchester United Escape FA Sex Rap – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 08/02/2015 | Leave a comment
Tasteful and frank

Tasteful… and frank

Leeds United appears to be on the brink of becoming embroiled in yet another controversy. The scandal-wracked Yorkshire giants have now been hit by another points sanction, this time in the wake of allegations against Manchester United of “sexual misdemeanours in a sanitary environment”. Leeds officials are flimsily protesting that this “has nothing to do with us” – but the FA are likely to hold firm, in order to send out a clear message that, whilst Manchester United remain untouchable, these things will certainly not be tolerated.

The FA have so far refused to comment on media claims that Manchester United employees have been caught up in what amounts to a sex scandal – but they were willing to reveal that 20 points have been deducted from Leeds United’s meagre total, with immediate effect and no right of appeal, to show that the game’s ruling body takes the matter very seriously. The measure places Leeds firmly in the Championship relegation zone, but the comment from the FA was a terse “Tough titty”.

Manchester United themselves – the self-proclaimed “Greatest Club in the World, Universe and All Four Dimensions of Space-time™” have moved swiftly to deny that the incident of a video-taped sex act in a club lavatory did anything to harm their reputation for class and style in everything they do. “It were a very posh club,” a players’ spokesman leered. “There were all gilded taps in the bogs, wall to wall posh totty and only the highest calibre dust on the glass tops. Proper bangin’, buzzin’ place, our kid.”

No Manchester United players or staff members have been named in the allegations of “kinky manking around in the club conveniences”, but one of the women involved, who shyly agreed to share her experience with us, confessed that she had been “left breathless” by the sexual appetite of one participant in particular.

“I don’t know who he was, but let me tell you, he might have been a bit old – but he were a real animal,” Doris Slagg (38DD) recalled, breathlessly. “He were just relentless. They must feed him on raw Quorn. His wife must be a happy lass – his sister-in-law too, for all I know. Do I get cash or a cheque? I’m just a lickle bit strapped, luv, till I’ve done me shift down Deansgate tonight” (This quote Copyright © Gutter Press Inc. 2015)

An official Pride of Devon spokesman told us, direct from the Theatre of Hollow Myths, “This just goes to show how we’re always taking community involvement to a new level and seeking to penetrate new markets. It reflects really very well on the club and is a part of our overall strategy of global domination. Print that, or we’ll sue.”

Louis van Gaal has been charged with bringing the game into disrepute, in what – as we at Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything will reluctantly concede – is an entirely separate matter. We’re really happy with the juxtaposition, though.

Bobby Charlton is 94.

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All in Good Leeds Fun: a Short “Man U Joke” Compendium – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 27/01/2015 | 6 comments

01 leeds

Too much serious stuff is bad for a blog. So let’s have some good, healthy anti-scum humour:

A Leeds United fan was digging at the bottom of his garden, and he unearths an old green bottle.  As it’s very dirty from being in the ground, and because it looks old and possibly valuable, he gets a rag and starts to rub it clean.  All of a sudden, there’s a big cloud of smoke from the neck of the bottle, and out pops this great big Genie.

“Greetings!” says the Genie.  “As you have summoned me, I must grant you three wishes.”

“Great!” says the Leeds fan.  “Can I make my wishes now?”

“You may,” says the Genie, “But be warned: anything you wish for, every Man Utd fan in the world will receive, but twofold.  So if you wish for a million pounds, every Man U fan gets 2 million, if you ask for a mansion, they all get two mansions, and so on.”

“Hmmmm,” says the Leeds fan. “Well, that’s a bit of a downer, but what the heck – I’m not petty. If I’m getting three wishes, I don’t care if they all get double.”

“Very well,” says the Genie.  “Make your first wish!”

“I wish for £10 million in my bank account.” says the Leeds fan.

“Granted!!” says the Genie. “But remember, that means every Man U fan gets £20 million.”

“That’s OK, good luck to them,” the Leeds fan smiles.  “My second wish is for a 25 bedroom mansion in 40 acres of parkland with a lake with an island in it, and all furnished with no regard for expense.”

“Your wish is granted,” says the Genie, “But remember…”

“I know, I know – all the scummers get two mansions, that’s fine!” says the Leeds fan. “Can I make my third and final wish?”

“You may,” says the Genie.  “Just remember the ‘Double’ rule.”

“I’ve remembered,” says the Leeds United fan. “For my third wish, I would like to donate a kidney.”

-o0o-

A Leeds-supporting white van driver used to amuse himself by running over every man u fan he would see strutting down the side of the road, dressed in their hideous red colours. He would swerve to hit them and there would be a loud “THUMP” and then he would swerve back onto the road.

One day, as the driver was driving along, he saw a priest hitch-hiking. He thought he would do a good turn and pulled the van over. He asked the Priest, “Where are you going, Father?”

“I’m going to say mass at St. Joseph’s church, about two miles down the road,” replied the priest.

“No problem Father! I’ll give you a lift. Climb in!”

The happy priest climbed into the passenger seat and the van continued down the road. Suddenly the driver saw a man u fan walking down the road and instinctively swerved to hit him. But, just in time, he remembered the bloody priest, so at the last minute he swerved back to the road, narrowly missing the man.

However, even though he was certain he’d missed the glory-hunting specimen, he still heard a loud “THUD”. Not understanding where the noise came from, he glanced in his mirrors and when he didn’t see anything he turned to the priest and said, “I’m sorry Father, I almost hit that man u fan, just swerved to miss him!”

“Never fear, my son,” replied the priest. “I got the bugger with the door…”

-o0o-

Q: What has Old Trafford on a Saturday afternoon at 4:45 pm got in common with Wormwood Scrubs Prison?
A: They are both full of cockneys trying to get out.

-o0o-

A man u fan dies on match day and goes to heaven in his man u shirt. He knocks on the old pearly gates and out walks St. Peter wearing a Leeds United top.

“Hello mate,” says St. Peter, “I’m sorry, no man u fans in heaven.”
“What?” exclaims the man, astonished.
“You heard, no man u fans.”
“But, but, but….. I’ve been a good man,” replies the aghast man u supporter.
“Oh really,” says St. Peter. “What have you done, then?”
“Well,” said the guy, “Three weeks before I died, I gave £10 to the starving children in Africa.”
“Oh,” says St. Peter. “Anything else?”
“Well, two weeks before I died, I also gave £10 to the homeless.”
“Hmmm. Anything else?”
“Yeah. A week before I died I gave another £10 to the Albanian orphans.”
“Okay,” said St. Peter, “You wait here a minute while I have a word with the governor.”

Ten minutes pass before St. Peter returns. He looks the bloke in the eye and says, “I’ve had a word with God – actually, He lets me call him Don.  Anyway, He agrees with me. Here’s your thirty quid back – now bugger off.“

-o0o-

Top tip for Manchester United fans: don’t waste money on expensive new kits every season. Simply strap an inflatable penis to your forehead, and everyone will immediately know which team you support…

Please feel free to contribute your own anti-scum jokes in the comments to this article.  Times are hard and friends are few – it’s our solemn duty to laugh at the scum.

Image

DOH!!!!

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