Some of the confessions in this thread are too shocking for words. I can't even begin to get my head round some of your stories about you letting those things even touch your skin let alone actually wearing them. You dirty little b'stards!
For the record, my Dad's family are r*ds, my mum's are blue, and I can honestly say that even the concept that a choice between the two, let alone thinking about making that choice, is completely alien to me. I can't remember being brainwashed by either side of the family, I just chose blue and stuck with it.
Even when I was only about 7 or 8, in the mid-seventies, when I took it upon myself to cut up my entire collection of "shoot" magazines and cover every inch of all four walls of my bedroom with the player poster pictures they used to have in them, I made sure that there wasn't a trace of any Un*t*d players anywhere. Even the pictures where you couldn't tell who the out of focus legs making a tackle belonged to, were screwed up and thrown in the bin if I thought that the sock of that player belonged to that of one of those dirty Un*t*d b'stards.
I thought that's how it was with all of us, but obviously I'm wrong. I hope I don't sit next to any of you or even accidentally touch any of you on match-day without knowing it, you filthy little boys!
