United Thread | 2024/25
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remember arthur mann
Well-Known Member
The class of 2032
Even a fucking bot can't be this thick.
Franny 1234
Well-Known Member
No matter how we dress it up Rags getting rid of the rotten apple Rashford can only help their team. Another seven to get rid of then they might get top ten.
He hasn't turned up to work for the last 6 weeks. Only thing he's helping with is an extra parking space outside Carrington
deano ou812
Well-Known Member
Can’t be a coincidence that players leave the shithole and suddenly they are putting in decent performances at other clubs,also if it’s true about PSR preventing them from signing players then these rules will be scrapped..
Franny 1234
Well-Known Member
Karma is a bitch
blueballs84
Well-Known Member
I am slightly surprised they didn't even get someone in on loan to cover Martinez injury.
Especially since they are playing a back 3 now.
Especially since they are playing a back 3 now.
Mazzarelli's Swiss Cheese
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I think they are pretty stuck due to psr - even more so if they think they'll need to pay interim off.
blue b4 the moon
Well-Known Member
I can remember when we had a generation of youngsters unfortunately we were skint, all we needed was 4/5 top players and we'd have been a real force.
Rags even if this lot turn out to be all Lakes, Whites & Redmonds can't afford the fucking pot to piss in and that's not showing any sign of change.
feedmpenzaandhewillscore
Well-Known Member
They don’t have even have the option to panic buy because they are skint. 12 years of poor planning sacking managers and not consistently qualifying for The Champions league has left them with players they can only shift on loan. Not to mention Danish Luke Chadwick who Ederson has the same amount of assists as this season. Everton will finish above these shite hawks this season.
Prestwich_Blue
Well-Known Member
From that pic it looks like the 'Casemiro Diet' includes a lot of cold turkey.
give it to gordon
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Looking at the photos of Rashford you have to wonder why villa have signed him. Clearly doesn't look fit. Have the American owners got together to do a deal ?
Seems an odd deal to me
Seems an odd deal to me
KentBlue
Well-Known Member
What has happened at the rags: their downfall, their ruination, whatever we choose to label it, is something that they should have seen coming many years ago.
It began under the dictatorship of the Govan pisscan and has been gathering momentum like a rollercoaster ever since. Up, then down. Up again, then down again. Then finally one last heroic effort to climb to the peak, pause momentarily, and then suddenly gravitation takes over and you're hurtling towards the climactic finale that ends all funfair rides. Then it's over. The sheer exhilaration you felt when you were up so high above the rest of the world, that adrenalin-filled sense of wonder when you looked down at the scene below, the numerous sideshows with their gaudy neon lights: the crowds, the laughter, the latest pop and rock songs pounding out from the old and battle-scarred PA speakers adorning the structures of the numerous attractions.
Moments later your feet are on terra firma once more and you're off looking for the next round of thrills and spills.
Knowing come Monday morning things will be back to normal: the usual routine at work or school, the mundane existence of life in the 21st century. Those few hours on Saturday evening at the funfair with your friends seems like a lifetime away, but the memories will remain there forever. And the next time the fair rolls into town you'll do it all again.
But for the rags there will be no 'next time.' The club is a relic from the 70's and 80's, they are still listening to Culture Club and wearing 'Frankie Goes To Hollywood' tee shirts. Quoting Gordon Gecko and watching 'Knight Rider' with the Hoff.
The rags are now overweight, middle-aged suburbanites. Trying to recapture what they fleetingly enjoyed 40-plus years ago.Those young denim-clad teens, with their full heads of hair and encyclopaedic knowledge of street terminology, who once strolled about town with an air of confidence and swagger, are ghosts from a past long since gone. Having to make way for the new kids on the block with their wads of £50 pound notes, ghetto bling, but even more damaging to the rags - a future.
Both the pisscan and David Gill, through various means, made the players feel like they were invincible: made them feel the ordinary rules of the game did not apply to them. They instilled in their teams an ill-deserved confidence brought about by a collective fear from the match officials and an ever-compliant media. Pisscan and Gill knew, and they made the team know, that nothing could stop them. That the man in the centre of the pitch, dressed in black and with a whistle in his hand, was there to ensure the rags would win the game - or he would pay the consequences.
This made the rags - for want of a better word- 'successful.'
But it is a very very different world out there now. More clubs can compete on a monetary level, VAR and digital technology can now rule out whatever the Pisscan demanded the referee say when yet another contentious decision went in the rags' favour. He and that rotten-to-the-core club that he once represented are no longer in control, they no longer pull the strings. And that's a bitter pill to have to swallow for a club so used to calling the shots.
(I've just read my post - fuck me! Don't I go on a lot? Should I change my name from Kent Blue to Dot Cotton?)
It began under the dictatorship of the Govan pisscan and has been gathering momentum like a rollercoaster ever since. Up, then down. Up again, then down again. Then finally one last heroic effort to climb to the peak, pause momentarily, and then suddenly gravitation takes over and you're hurtling towards the climactic finale that ends all funfair rides. Then it's over. The sheer exhilaration you felt when you were up so high above the rest of the world, that adrenalin-filled sense of wonder when you looked down at the scene below, the numerous sideshows with their gaudy neon lights: the crowds, the laughter, the latest pop and rock songs pounding out from the old and battle-scarred PA speakers adorning the structures of the numerous attractions.
Moments later your feet are on terra firma once more and you're off looking for the next round of thrills and spills.
Knowing come Monday morning things will be back to normal: the usual routine at work or school, the mundane existence of life in the 21st century. Those few hours on Saturday evening at the funfair with your friends seems like a lifetime away, but the memories will remain there forever. And the next time the fair rolls into town you'll do it all again.
But for the rags there will be no 'next time.' The club is a relic from the 70's and 80's, they are still listening to Culture Club and wearing 'Frankie Goes To Hollywood' tee shirts. Quoting Gordon Gecko and watching 'Knight Rider' with the Hoff.
The rags are now overweight, middle-aged suburbanites. Trying to recapture what they fleetingly enjoyed 40-plus years ago.Those young denim-clad teens, with their full heads of hair and encyclopaedic knowledge of street terminology, who once strolled about town with an air of confidence and swagger, are ghosts from a past long since gone. Having to make way for the new kids on the block with their wads of £50 pound notes, ghetto bling, but even more damaging to the rags - a future.
Both the pisscan and David Gill, through various means, made the players feel like they were invincible: made them feel the ordinary rules of the game did not apply to them. They instilled in their teams an ill-deserved confidence brought about by a collective fear from the match officials and an ever-compliant media. Pisscan and Gill knew, and they made the team know, that nothing could stop them. That the man in the centre of the pitch, dressed in black and with a whistle in his hand, was there to ensure the rags would win the game - or he would pay the consequences.
This made the rags - for want of a better word- 'successful.'
But it is a very very different world out there now. More clubs can compete on a monetary level, VAR and digital technology can now rule out whatever the Pisscan demanded the referee say when yet another contentious decision went in the rags' favour. He and that rotten-to-the-core club that he once represented are no longer in control, they no longer pull the strings. And that's a bitter pill to have to swallow for a club so used to calling the shots.
(I've just read my post - fuck me! Don't I go on a lot? Should I change my name from Kent Blue to Dot Cotton?)
Darragh McAntony called out the spin coming out of Old Trafford yesterday courtesy of Melissa Reddy (is there a worse journalist in football?).
It was funny to hear, but then listening to how she was reporting you could definitely see what he was talking about.
Johnny Mars Bar
Well-Known Member
Looks more like the Pete Doherty smack and Camembert diet to be honest.
mrbelfry
Well-Known Member
Shows United fans delusional nature that they think Skelly would jump at a chance to leave a guaranteed second place finish to the promising footballer graveyard of Old Trafford
Same fans that can't get their head around Villa being an upgrade to them
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