I'm new to BM, but would like to have my two penneth on the scum if you guys don't mind.
First and foremost the club itself is a myth in terms of it claims of organic growth and self sufficiency, who are they trying to kid. In the mid eighties to early nineties and just before the birth of the Premier League their club shop like ours sold kits and other bits of shit, the only difference being that Swales in his infinite wisdom had allowed our club shop to be owned by a family who paid a bit of rent on the actual building, with club making zero income on merchandise.
The scum however not satified with their original owner profiting from the sale of rank meat to school kids owned their shop outright and had day trips for local schools, tourists and in my case attendees of Sir Scrape Over Tout-Alots Soccer School. Now before you turn on me I won the place as a result of a swimming tournament, but what was clear even in 1986 was that they were pushing the hard sell in terms of kits and other shit. Now a lot of the kids on the soccer school were rich foreign kids who were actively encouraged to part with their cash and this to me is where the merchandising hard sell began. Organic growth, pull the other one from the outset it's vintage fan fleecing, but they're so numb they can't or won't see it.
The fans, well where do you start, as I have them in particular categories, which are as follows -
The first and most common type are the ones who attach themselves to the arrogance band wagon as it gives them a sense of belonging. They've never ever ever been within a square mile of the swamp, but profess that they "Used to go" or the other gem "I'm on the waiting list" They walk around like Liberace on Crystal meth when they win, but lose and you've more chance of Sky interviewing a Manc outside the swamp on matchday than seeing them the following week.
The second type is what I refer to as the "Why the f**k do you support them group" which is a varied collection of folk who have absolutely no link to the borough of Trafford, yet claim to be die hard fans, again despite having never been to a game. Their wardrobes are crammed with every replica shirt since 1992, along with other cheap shit Sports Direct fashionwear embroided with the rag badge. The natural enviroment for these turds is usually when us City fans go on holiday and have the misfortune of stumbling across them whilst out and about. Often quite vocal, especially when their team is on Sky TV in a pub or bar or likewise when they see a blue shirt. They are loud brash, but surprisingly thicker than a whale butty and tend to skulk of reasonably quickly when they talk to City fans as it soon becomes apparent they know sweet FA about football. It's worth bearing in mind that there are also a celebrity version of these cretins, who use their platform to talk utter gash. One such specimen in that shit bag, Eammon Holmes, who like the non-celebrity version just cannot keep his gob shut, but unfortunately to a wider audience.
The last type and these may i say are rarer than an intact hymen in Hue Heffner's Playboy Mansion. They are the Mancunian, okay the ones who live Greater Manchester that do actually go and unbelievably are able to participate in a balanced conversation void of arrogance, self entitlement and resist the necessity to belittle other fans clubs. They support their team like we do ours, but can be honest in their opinions and have a dislike for the aforementioned fans.
Finally they now have a manager who truly represents all that's wrong with that club. Moyes and Van Gaal were just comedy value and didn't have the required concieted persona that is ingrained in the fabric of the scum. Mourinho is a perfect fit and I wait patiently for him to do what he's done everywhere else and alienate the players when it goes tits uo. Special One, more Special Needs, as he is such a megalomaniac that he thinks he's bigger than football and that he can say and do what wants.
I apologise if I've bored you all to death, but I've 43 years of pent up frustration at having to listen to these gobshites through school and work and I now feel so much better for having a good old rant.