We’ll Meet Again – Manchester 16th April 2016

Aston Villa today provided stiff opposition as Manchester United, once again, did their level best to find the cure for insomnia, without the need to use any pharmaceuticals.

In short, this game was so bad that even Alan Shearer’s analysis tonight on Match of the Day will be more interesting. Perhaps.

“From Rotterdam to Rotherham, Lerner Out” – Bostin banner mate

With around ten minutes to go, a United fan was kicked out by the security goons for abusing nearby Villa fans in the B Stand. There was an outraged reaction around me from other Reds. Their protest was not about the draconian security measures, but the fact that they hadn’t been kicked out too…

This photo serves no other purpose other than the bloke who looks after this website told me to put it up. He says it will help make me become a more wholesome human being

Despite my opinion of this game, the hard fact is that United won and can still qualify for the new holy grail, European Cup qualification. Marcus Rashford scored in the 32nd minute to give United a grinding win. The biggest surprise was that the goal went in at the Scoreboard End – an end of the ground that has seen so few goals this season that a flock of pigeons has set up home in the goal mouth. Word has it that those pigeons were so pissed off with the goal and its disturbance, they’re now seeking sanctuary on Samir Nasri’s head.

You didn’t think I was going to put any of that garbage up from today did you? No, here’s this classic from 2002 instead

As for Rashford, it’s too early to say how he’s going to work long term. We’ve all seen how long Mark Robins lasted after his initial burst in 1990 and Kevin Cummins, a London residing City fan and real life Bertie Magoo has also gleefully pointed out that he could be another Federico Macheda. Whatever happens to Rashford in the long term, he’s already done enough in the last three months to be loved forever by United fans.

Never seen in the same room together, Kevin Cummins and Matthew Kelly

The match was yet another case of after the Lord Mayor’s Show for this season for United. Seven days after the fantastic, if fortuitous, win at Anfield in January, United lost at home to Southampton in a performance of comical incompetence. Early March saw an excruciating 1-0 win against Watford four days after United beat Arsenal in what was, to my eyes, the highlight of the season so far. Three weeks later saw United deservedly beat the Manchester branch of the City Football Group at the Ashton New Road theme park and the next game against Everton, which United won, was so bad that Reds walking out of the ground in a catatonic state couldn’t even remember the result of the game.

Today was much the same. On Wednesday night, United deservedly beat the best West Ham side I’ve seen since their title-contending side of 1986. A month ago at Old Trafford, I thought United were lucky to get a draw against the loveable family club from East London. Similarly, I didn’t fancy United at all for the replay last Wednesday; a lot of my Red comrades had the same view (at least privately anyway). The brilliance of that win left us all knowing today’s match was going to be crap. We were not to be let down in our expectations.

The only way Aston Villa could have avoided relegation today was by winning. That was never seriously on the cards. The Villa fans were revelling in their mediocrity before the game, probably in an attempt at being charmingly self deprecating (sans the charm). When Wayne Rooney was substituted in the 66th minute, the Villa fans were only too keen to remind him how out of shape he is. Their thoughts on Villa’s own forward Gabby Agbonlahor, a player so fat that his arse has its own postcode were, alas, not shared.

Travelling Reds will lament that Villa Park will not be on our away itinerary next season. It is a superb stadium and and only an hour or two (depending on traffic) away from Manchester. One thing I won’t miss is the annual visit of Aston Villa fans. They are the type of people that your parents ordered you to be nice to when you were a kid. They sang the old Vera Lynn classic “We’ll Meet Again” towards the end of the game. If you can imagine that song being sung in a Brummie accent, then I’m confident that you’ll join me in sincerely hoping we don’t.

7 thoughts on “We’ll Meet Again – Manchester 16th April 2016”

  1. Very disappointing, Murph. Very disappointing.

    No, not the game. No, not finishing the day worse off than where we started it despite playing relegation fodder. No, disappointing you used that tweet. Not mine of course. Cummins. Because that means he hasn’t blocked you. And that, Murph, is extremely disappointing 🙁

    Although I’ll half let you off for that clip from the cup game. Now there was a Dutchman we really could warm to.

    Anyway – yes Rashford looks more than a flash in the pan with each game. Alarming tho that a Wembley place being at stake didn’t seem to energise (certain) players at all. Much more reassuring to see the swathes (sic) of Villa fans (sic) – fourteen hundred – supporting (sic) their yokal teeyym for one last time. They make me sic (sic).

  2. A petty minded, hateful and vindictive pile of shit which just goes to show why everybody hates manu. You think you’re funny with your pathetic insults about the Birmingham accent and what is that crap about Villa fans being the kind of people your parents telling you to be nice to?

    You’re scum and you know it, did you get back to London in good time to write this rubbish?

  3. Too right Sajeed, this wanker should be ashamed of himself. Man U fans are scum and their over rated ground full of tourists too interested in taking fucking selfies than watching the game. I hate the place and the arseholes that go there. If that is Premier League, then fuck it and fuck them, rather go to places like Rotherham and Leeds anyway where they have genuine fans.

    Up the Villa, we’ll be back scum

  4. Pete, he is another man u arsehole who writes shit from the safety of a keyboard. Anytime you want to meet me for a face to face, I’ll break your fingers you horrible cockney bastard.

    Next time you and your shithouse fans come to our grand old stadium, make yourself known to me you twat.

    1. Munphy

      Congratulation on the returning of the blog, I hope this is of full time.

      Paul, don’t come ever in France and do not threatened the finger of Munphy. If you touch him I will finger you, you shitting house.

      Serious if you set feet in France you are sleep with the fishes.

      J the Red takes the shit of nobody.

      Sajeed, you are a dick not a bird.

      Paul, fly away but not in French airspace you tools.

      French Reds are watching you.


  5. Two little dicky birds sitting on a wall, one named Pete, one named Paul.

    Fly away Pete, fly away Paul – to the second division.

    You’ve been relegated!!!!!


    When I eventually got home to central London last night and toasted a foccaccia while sipping a mouthful of Veuve, I raised a glass to you gents.

    Also, a big shout out to Steve Stride, the charming Villa Park safety officer who used to get in rather a tizz when we went for an amble out onto the pitch from time to time.

    Sorry Sajeed, our parents ordered us to be nice to you so no news on whether you had a dicky bird named after you.

    Good luck in your local derby against Walsall.


  6. So Murph, you pop your head up from behind your keyboard. Thanks to Harry the Red, for telling me you were back on.

    Villa, where to start. Pete the Villain l think. If your line about preferring Rotherham and leads, is accurate, just keep what doing what you’re doing. Your stay will be a long one, but the ‘we’ll be back gentlemen’ comment confused me. So make your mind up uneducated Fuckwit.

    McPartland, physical violent threats from behind your keyboard. Tut tut. As for breaking fingers, you should snap some of yours off then you could perhaps join normal society, or least look like one.

    Sajaed, you don’t have a dickie bird named after you. So Fuck Off. Birmingham, the second city. Ever wondered why. Second or third in everything that matters. No top flight football. In the prem or not. A town that only the local ‘natives’ navigate. The accent, sorry, but we can’t let them get away with any longer. They talk amiable country bumpkins and then posture themselves as city boys. The ultimate wanna be town, that never will be. Even the scousers, who live in a dung heap have more identity than these 2nd raters. I live in a a city that considers itself to be what it is. A post industrial, Renaissance City, that doesn’t need any 2nd tag because we know who and what we are. Now l make way for the next ignoramus, to put some lob sided crap on here.

    Ta murph. See you down Hackney High St some time

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