The entire modern noveau football fan’s equating of history to mean trophies began with Liverpool fans at the turn of the Millennium and was originally aimed at Chelsea following the Abramovich takeover.
Not only were these entitled melts mortified at seeing league titles suddenly being racked up by a club they traditionally considered beneath them while their own empire crumbled, they were further triggered by their home town hero Gerrard agreeing to move to Stamford Bridge, only to later change his mind after being pressured by organised crime figures in the city.
Thus their “You aint got no history” song was born and belted out whenever they played Chelsea.
It was all they had left.
Nonetheless, it was a message and position that would be amplified by compliant client journalists and the explosion of social media and online football outlets and forums, and thus adopted by other fading redshirt establishment fanbases as their complacency and decadence meant they could no longer compete on the field of play.
When City came along, it was the final straw. And not only with trophies.
For Gerrard to Chelsea, read Sterling, Tevez, Adebayor and Nasri to City. And unlike Chelsea, we got our men.
The supporters of LFC, united and Arsenal - the three clubs who were responsible for the very invention and concept of the plastic, glory hunting modern TV fan - suddenly decided that not only was the past another country, but it was better than the one they now found themselves living in.
And they all had their former players and media mouthpieces onside.
Like Les McLeod, the ‘Creme Brulee’ one hit wonder has been from The League of Gentlemen, they preferred living in a rose-tinted version of the past rather than accepting the grim reality of their present and the unpromising outlook of their future. To paraphrase Les, “Remember when my team was good? Football, its a shit business isn’t it?”....
Notwithstanding its factual inaccuracy in all aspects, as the recent FA Cup trophy documentary has demonstrated, ‘No history’ says more about them than about City. It is an entitled, embittered and terrified howl into the void. The death rattle of dinosaurs.
