I don't 'ate U****d, because I have learned that hate is an abhorrent trait.
That being said I do detest, loathe, abhor, despise and execrate that abominate club. I disrelish their badge, club colours, songs, the majority of their fans, their pride in snidiness, and resent their use of the moniker Manchester. I dislike their crest and its stolen elements. I have an aversion to the geography of Old Trafford swamp and find my aversion leads to hostility when at the cricket ground or during my college days at North Trafford College.
I wish Man Utd. little ill will or ill feeling but my animosity and antagonistic side wishes they would never qualify for Europe and settle into a mundane period of nerve-numbing boredom. My bad feeling of them doesn't even wish them a season's experience of relegation and the possible joys of ressurection. Such is my antipathy of their name that Milford Utd. FC, Maidstone Utd. FC and FC Shouldn't Exist of Manchester fit under the bitter blanket of revulsion.
My contempt for Rooney, Beckham, Red Card Ronaldo, Scholes, and animus towards their line of repugnant current stars is simple. I would rather watch a wall dry with sick than look at the odium and rancour of MUFC.
I recall City producing a t-shirt with something like "If U****d were playing on my garden, I'd close the curtains." Personally, I'd napalm the lawn, test the atomic bomb on the conifer and ask Priti Patel to book my trip to Rwanda.
Besides that, they're a distaste on the land of football. I do miss Sir Baconface though.
