But in terms of the actual football, it’s very strong. And, let’s face it, it needs to be good in England because “the product” overall is shite. Good football – generally fucking abysmal experience, which is why we have seen a rise in those Against Modern Football types, who are against football so much that they spend money going to over-priced football but make colourful and vocal statements whilst there, thus increasing the spectacle for on-looking non-Against Modern Football types who have infested the game. Talk about feeding the hand that bites you. Where am I going with this? Right, fashionable Premier League clubs…

Arsenal Football Club is a club for whom I have a great deal of admiration and respect. Their late snatching of the Division One championship in 1989 has much to do with me finding it hard to “hate” Arsenal – as so many people do – as does their wonderful sides of the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, against which United had some unforgettable tussles. They play football the “right” way, they nurture youth and they have a genuine heritage. They’re everything Chelsea aren’t, which is a big plus in the eyes of most football supporters. However, if a view was to fester that only certain clubs of an apparently high stature should be in the Premier League then I’d hazard a guess it festers more in the stands at Arsenal than anywhere else and that doesn’t sit right with me.

The Arsenal crowd gives off more of a vibe than anywhere in football. I don’t mean in any way to compare “The Library” to the wall of noise at the San Siro or bouncing upper tiers of Boca Juniors’ Bombonera, but in terms of mood I think that Arsenal fans convey themselves onto the pitch more than fans of any other club. Sure, they’re up for games against Tottenham and United and the atmosphere might be better than normal for games against new foe, Chelsea, but they are a moody and disgruntled bunch who look down on visitors and they don’t mind people knowing it. If the collective thoughts of Arsenal fans were gathered and displayed on their large scoreboards throughout games, they’d constantly read “who are these cunts and why on earth are we not winning 4-0?”.

You can only imagine how much of a nuisance it has been for Arsenal fans to have to sit through visits from Bolton, Blackpool, Burnley, Blackburn and Wigan Athletic. Not only are they lower league, Northern non-entities but there isn’t even a hope that a win against these teams will prove to be good watercooler banter in the office on Monday morning. Some people from Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds do indeed make it to London but no one from anywhere else up North even goes to the South East except for football and there’s no chance of Arsenal fans ever working with fans of clubs from the once industrialised North. And so, all they are is a scruffy, noisy, small-allocation-taking, interference with what should be a run of the mill (pardon the Northerner pun) home win every other Saturday afternoon.

So, some of their wish for a League of big games came true last night as Wigan Athletic were relegated from the “Greatest League In The World”. A league, it would seem, where you have no credibility if you have empty seats in your “stadium” or your own museum showing off all your silverware, and where only the biggest brands in football belong. A league where it would be much nicer if Watford or Palace came up because then you could do the away games easily and wear your Arsenal shirt on dress down Friday the week after a big “derby”, of which there’d be one almost every week, with the occasional visit of Manchester or Liverpool to keep things spiced up. How they must’ve enjoyed that last night, Arsenal fans, putting aside that nagging FA Cup win for Wigan of course.

Wigan, you have been a pleasure to watch. No, I don’t mean the plucky Northerner routine and taking on the big man. I just mean pissing off new football knobheads with your unfilled ground, your smaller than average away following, your big galloots roughing up fancy-pants footballers the league over and, not least of all, your turning up against big clubs and playing nice football to humble the spoilt, mardy-arse fans of the fashionable few. There’s no pat on the head from us, just a big bucket of best wishes and a hope that you come back soon and make Arsenal season ticket holders look at a fixture with you and go “for fuck’s sake, not them”.

As people eulogised this week about Alex Ferguson and his accomplishments at Manchester United, I delved into my ticket stub box like the sad get I am.

One stub jumped out at me and paints a picture of how dire things were at United before Fergie took the reigns in November 1986.

Many speak of Ron Atkinson’s last trophy being the FA Cup he won against Everton in 1985 thanks to Norman Whiteside’s famous curler. But I seem to remember, as an eight-year-old, seeing the reds lift a trophy at Old Trafford, presented by a member of the royal family in the summer of 1986. I have slept and put chemicals into my system that may have induced momentary lapses in reality since that age, but with a bit of further digging I think I may be correct.

Some geek or other will no doubt make me look daft, but it doesn’t really matter because it is my memory and it is one of the things I have thought a lot about during this strange week in the life of Manchester United Football Club.

On Wednesday, August 6, 1986, United played an international side of renowned and beat them on penalties to claim the Prince of Wales’ Trust Trophy. I think it was 4-3 on penalties and McGrath got the vital spot kick, but as I say, I may be making it up. The match definitely happened as I have the stub to prove it.

Why on earth my dad bought pre-booked tickets for what was effectively a pre-season friendly is beyond me, but I seem to remember him having some mates who regularly sorted us with tickets in K Stand for next to nothing.

Twas a summers’ night and I felt like we’d won the World Cup. It was the first time I saw a United captain lift a trophy, live, and it was as important to my eight-year-old self as watching us win every single major trophy, became in my teens and beyond.

I seem to remember Fluminese being a last-minute replacement for Flamengo, who United were meant to play originally. Zico et al were expected and that is maybe why we got a ticket rather than paid on the gate. I have no idea why Flamenco didn’t show.

Anyway, for some reason it fell through and so another Brazilian side was required. It appears that Fluminese did us a big favour by agreeing to play. I have the programme somewhere, with that cartoon strip ‘Thick and thin’, where they displayed borderline xenophobia in the name of ‘humour’. I can’t find it to quote from it exactly but there was a gag about Socrates smoking, I seem to recall.

The price of a seat in K Stand that night was £4.30, which was full adult price as they didn’t do kids concessions then. I suspect I may have been smuggled in anyway as I only have one stub and I was quite religious about keeping them in those days. Plus I was a tiny eight-year-old, as I am now a tiny 35-year-old.

At the time it was no doubt a momentous occasion, or so it felt, such was the reds’ woeful position in English football. United had thrown away a good lead to finish fourth in the league the season before after winning the first 10 games. We had just had Mexico 86 and Robbo was injured again. But in my head, we were ace and Peter Davenport was dynamite. We all know now that he wasn’t, but as an eight-year-old, I knew no better. Frank Stapleton was still playing at the age of 50-odd and the following season we finished sub-midtable.

Looking back, United were a mess. That following season, Atkinson was sacked and Ferguson took over. I also have the stub from Big Ron’s last home game – the league cup match against Southampton – the replay of which saw us battered at The Dell and Atko consigned to United’s history books. It got worse too, with Ferguson floundering for a couple of years, save for the second-placed finish in 1987-88, which was watched by the lowest home average attendance for some time due to the dullness of the fair on the pitch. Not only were United in a poor state, but English football was too.

Football has changed a great deal since August 1986 and Ferguson has been at the forefront of that. We must hold on to our memories, for some of us they are all we have.

I belong to a generation of Manchester United fans who just about remember United being shit. For the most part, granted, we have enjoyed nothing but the attacking, trophy winning teams of Alex Ferguson. We have been blessed with phenomenal football and more great memories from single Ferguson sides – of which he’s created quite a few – than most football fans will get from a lifetime following their club. If you’ve managed to get your head around exactly what that man created then you’re doing better than me. It’ll take a while to fully sink in. It may take until David Moyes’ first press-conference.

When United lost a derby 5-1 at Maine Road in September 1989 it took over five years for that pain to go away. Well, for us school-age Reds it did. Five long years of blue taunts and, despite us winning derbies in between, that scoreline kept haunting us until 1994 when we put five past them at Old Trafford in November and they finally shut the fuck up. By contrast, City scored six at Old Trafford 18-months ago and it barely gets a mention. It doesn’t matter. Yes, it was horrible, of course it was, but it was forgotten because derbies under Ferguson have become just two games a season. Two important games, no doubt, but just two games amongst fifty or sixty-odd others which make up United’s bid to win everything going, which was a dream usually over by Christmas before the early 1990’s

Those derbies are no more important than two games against Liverpool, which we all want United to win but are no longer the end of the world if they don’t. And that for me is how best to evaluate Alex Ferguson’s time at Manchester United – a shift in expectation and belief that there are bigger prizes to win than local games and greater and more fitting stages than Anfield and Maine Road. We could never have got our heads around that after losing 5-1 at Maine Road or 4-0 at Anfield pre-1993. He leaves United with us fans gutted not to make finals rather than glad we got as far as the semis. It is an astonishing transformation and a reign that will never be matched by anyone ever again.

He’s not without criticism though. His behaviour at times has not been befitting of a great man. A great manager, of course, but only the most staunch Fergiephile could hold him up as a truly great man. Some of us are and will forever be upset and disappointed (to put it mildly) that neither Ferguson nor his debt-fearing mate, Gill, did anything to prevent our football club ending up in the hands the Glazer family. Worse still was his snubbing of anyone who questioned the owners, especially us mard-arse “United FC” lot, or his continual defence of Malcolm and his lads at every opportunity when we could all see that they were bad for United. The man who feared no one in football was, in the eyes of many, reduced to a boss’s man and an apologist for their withdrawal of hundreds of millions of pounds of our club’s money.

There are other unanswered questions about Ferguson, like his often odd transfer dealings, the involvement of his son in some of those and his association with Magnier and McManus, which left no one in any doubt that a fair amount of shit had to be swept under a Wilmslow carpet. They’re a blot on his time at United, as is the way he behaved to some of the press and media, and because football is more than just 90 minutes of kicking a ball about, for some of us it will forever be tarnished. A balanced assessment of Ferguson’s time at United, as fantastic as it was to watch, can’t ignore the not-insignificant negatives. Still, we could’ve ended up with Terry Venables, George Graham or Graham Taylor, eh.

As journalists cease fawning over him to sell papers, I’m sure they’ll start to turn on him to achieve the same end, but that’ll come after Moyes’ honeymoon period is over. For now though, as a United fan this is a time to remember the many unbelievable experiences that we had following Ferguson’s teams. I was fourteen when United won the League in 1993, twenty when Solskjaer secured the treble in 1999 and twenty nine when John Terry missed a penalty to hand United their 3^rd European Cup in Moscow. We’ve seen and done more along the way than fans of any other team could ever contemplate and it was made so by Ferguson. I wish you’d done something to keep those Americans away from our club but for all the good things you did do for United – thanks.

Ferguson Sevens…

Here are A Fine Lung’s 7 unforgettable, non-trophy-winning United moments under Ferguson;

1. Old Trafford – United v Liverpool – League, New Year’s Day 1989

Champions Liverpool had won the league by 9-points from United the previous season. John Barnes put Liverpool ahead in front of a Scouse-packed Scoreboard Paddock. A minute later and with 20 to go, Russell Beardsmore went on a great run into the Liverpool box, crossed for McClair who volleyed in and we were level. Hughes put United in front a few minutes later and a Beardsmore volley sealed the win. Outside, people celebrated like we’d won the League. We didn’t, of course, but beating them meant everything.

1. Villa Park – Aston Villa v United – FA Cup, January 2002

Whoever had the idea of playing an FA Cup game at 7pm on a Sunday at Villa Park is either a genius or a moron, depending on whether you’re talking to West Midlands Police or a United fan. United were 2-0 down and seemingly going out when Solskjaer gave us hope on 77 minutes. Following a brilliant volleyed equaliser from Van Nistelrooy, Reds behind the goal and along the Doug Ellis Stand spilled onto the pitch to celebrate with the United team. Seeing how easy it was to get on, hundreds did likewise when Ruud rounded Schmeichel in the Villa net to win the game. It was a breath-taking end to the game and debate still rages as to whether there were more people arrested that night than attended the Stone Roses’ gig at Spike Island.

1. Maine Road – League, November 1993

A few days after an embarrassing European Cup exit to Galatasaray, United went to Moss Side and were two Niall Quinn goals down at half time. “Two nil up and you fucked it up…” sang delighted blues behind the Kippax at half time as they threw Turkish Delights over the fence at United fans. The song and the confectionary came their way after the final whistle. Cantona scored two to level the game and Roy Keane slid in at the far post to win it in front of hundreds of United fans who had tickets in the Platt Lane end. “Two nil up and you fucked it up, City is your name…”

1. St James Park – League, March 1996

United were under massive pressure from Keegan’s Newcastle in what was billed as a title decider. In reality, there was loads of work still to do, much of which Cantona did himself, but it tipped things in United’s favour. United were second best throughout the game and it is easy to imagine how a Newcastle win would’ve given them the belief they could get the title. Instead, Cantona’s goal was a huge psychological blow, not least of all for Keegan, who ended the season ranting on live TV before seeing United lift the trophy at Boro. We loved it, Kev.

1. White Hart Lane – Spurs v United – League, September 2001

Probably one of the best-remembered United comebacks under Ferguson. When Ziege put Spurs 3-0 up before half time more than a handful of United fans left the ground dismayed. A completely different United team came out of the second half and dismantled Spurs. Andy Cole started the fightback and Laurent Blanc made it 3-2 with still over half an hour to play. Ruud got the equaliser and Veron and Beckham sealed the win. It was as rampant a 45 minutes as most of us there had ever seen and pure United.

1. Villa Park – Arsenal v United – FA Cup, April 1999

Keane’s sending off, Schmeichel’s penalty save and one of the greatest goals ever scored. This tie needs no more description. “I’d be happy if we feel like this a week today” said a good mate of mine as we left Villa Park. A week later we played Juventus in Turin…

1. Turin – European Cup Semi, April 1999

Losing to Dortmund in the semi two years earlier and then losing Cantona had haunted me. To be 2-0 down against the mighty Juventus with just 15 minutes gone brought back all that pain. We needed to score three away from home against one of Europe’s elite. The dream was over. Again. No single goal has changed the complexion of a European tie more so than Roy Keane’s glancing header to make it 2-1. United visibly grew with that goal. Yorke equalised before half time and a solid second half was rewarded with an Andy Cole winner to take us to that final against Bayern. They kept us locked in for an hour afterwards and it was our own private party – “we’re all off to sunny Spain, to see Man United…”

By David Conn in The Guardian:

The New York stock exchange’s annual report from Manchester United, the great old football club now registered in the Cayman Islands tax haven, starkly acknowledges the central importance of Sir Alex Ferguson to United’s whole football and financial edifice.

Companies must set out for investors the risks to their future success, so the owners, the Glazer family, dutifully detailed their worst nightmares: serious injuries, falling crowds, and that “qualification for the European Champions League cannot be guaranteed”.

“Our business,” it says of United, depends on “our ability to attract and retain key personnel.”

Addressing the looming certainty of Ferguson’s retirement, the report states, a touch gloomily: “Any successor to our current manager may not be as successful as our current manager.”

That frank assessment for a money market to which the famous Manchester United have been flung, is a central truth about even modern, sophisticated football, which this club embodies more than any other. They can have all the revenue streams, global sponsors and “digital followers” possible, yet what might seem a licence to print money flows from success on the pitch and one person, the team manager, is still utterly central to that.

The likelihood of his successor being less successful seems as much a certainty as Ferguson’s ageing, which he, the greatest manager of the modern era and in football history in terms of trophies won, had to ultimately face up to. It is difficult to believe any successor will stay 27 years and stock United’s shelving with so much silver.

United, of course, have the memory of botching a difficult succession written into the club’s fabric, those sad episodes of United devotee Wilf McGuiness then Frank O’Farrell from Leicester City struggling to manage the club when Sir Matt Busby only semi-retired. Busby’s greatness had epic dimensions as he had rebuilt United from a bombed Old Trafford in 1945, through the 1958 Munich air crash in which eight of his youthful team died, to further league championships and the European Cup in 1968.

Yet Busby left a rebuilding job, with the prime of Sir Bobby Charlton, Denis Law and other greats fading, George Best on the slide, and Old Trafford gripped by a kind of post-1968 anti-climax.

In Ferguson’s statement announcing this was, really, the day of retirement, he made clear he has tried to leave United in a position incomparably more promising.

“It was important to me to leave an organisation in the strongest possible shape and I believe I have done so,” Ferguson said. Listing United’s great and increasing strengths, which can all be credited to the manager’s obsessive production of success, he said: “Our training facilities are amongst the finest in global sport and our home Old Trafford is rightfully regarded as one of the leading venues in the world.”

At 76,000 capacity, the old ground has been comprehensively made over since Ferguson arrived to its terraces, paddocks and fences in the 1980s, and incorporates all manner of lucrative feasting, the envy of other top clubs still grappling with the confines of their stadiums.

“The quality of this league-winning squad, and the balance of ages within it, bodes well for continued success at the highest level, whilst the structure of the youth set-up will ensure that the long-term future of the club remains a bright one.”

That is all true, and describes an achievement as remarkable as all the trophies which Ferguson bestowed on United. He has kept replenishing United’s squads with signings for the future, and, exceptionally among the Premier League’s top clubs, promoted young players from the club’s academy – Jonny Evans, Danny Welbeck and Tom Cleverly all started that game against Madrid, alongside that original homegrown lad, Ryan Giggs.

Addressing a group of apprentices recently on the invitation of Labour’s former sports minister, Richard Caborn, with whom he has stayed in touch, Ferguson said he can predict now 80% of the players who will stock United’s first team in five years’ time.

So his successor will walk into a football kingdom glittering with unparalleled riches, not a hollowed out reconstruction challenge. Nevertheless, there is no manager with Ferguson’s pedigree who can replace him, and this greatest opportunity in football is still fraught and daunting.

United note in that annual report that their financial might has depended on Ferguson.

“Our revenue streams are driven by the performance and popularity of the first team,” it says, before setting out the worrying multiple downsides of “a general decline in the success of our first team.”

Ferguson has not only relentlessly built success and planned for a brilliant future after he is gone, but steered United too through the financial horror the Glazers wreaked on the club. In 2009 and 2010 he made meagre signings and United looked potentially rocky when the £525m debts loaded on to the club to pay for the family’s takeover cost United £176m in interest alone.

Ferguson marshalled all his resources, dug in deeply, and the club and Glazers have emerged the other side, helped by the floatation, which raised £70m. The debt, still £420m in 2012, seven years after the takeover and costing £50m interest annually, is utterly dead money but more manageable now.

The financial gymnastics of a US family who want only to profit from Manchester United has been salvaged by Ferguson. However difficult for his successor, it feels unlikely the club’s burgeoning commercial operations will be seriously damaged now.

For all his football greatness, it has been a huge disappointment to many Manchester United fans that Ferguson, the avowed lifelong socialist, never even acknowledged their concerns let alone supported their protests over the Glazers’ speculations which have cost the club £550m. Supporters suffered ticket price increases partly to pay for the club’s ownership by a family none of them ever wanted, yet not only was Ferguson silent, he repeatedly praised the Glazers.

The old Govan union man publicly sneered at the fans who felt strongly enough to turn away and formed their own, mutual club, FC United of Manchester, whose hard graft from the bottom has brought them now to a promotion play-off final to the Blue Square Bet Conference North.

Even in his leaving statement, setting out the booming advantages with which he has furnished Manchester United (Cayman Islands), Ferguson said: “The Glazer family have provided me with the platform to manage Manchester United to the best of my ability.” Thanking David Gill too, the chief executive who has resigned and will be replaced with the Glazers’ protege, Edward Woodward, Ferguson said: “I am truly grateful to all of them.”

His tenure spanned soaring change for United and English football; the Premier League breakaway, pay TV and huge money which attracted the world’s best players.

Ferguson harried Manchester United into dominating that era, he leaves the club in enviable pomp – and he enabled rampant money-making off the club, first by the Edwards family, and now for the Glazers.

On Saturday, FC United of Manchester travel to Hednesford Town in the final of the Northern Premier League play-offs.

Victory will see the Reds promoted to the Conference North, just two further promotions from the Football League.

On Tuesday night, United beat Witton Albion in a thrilling semi-final at Gigg Lane in front of a raucous crowd of 2,492.

Manager Karl Marginson says Saturday presents the best chance yet for the Reds to win promotion.

He said: “Hednesford are one of the teams I predicted in my programme notes at the start of the season would be up there challenging for the title.

“It proved correct as they only just missed out on goal difference. They will be hurting from that and desperate to make sure their efforts this season weren’t in vein.

“That said, we feel the same too. We finished third and, apart from a bad run in March, we could have been challenging for automatic promotion too, so we are keen to prove how good we are.

“It will be a great occasion and it is good that as many of our fans as possible will get to see it this year, after issues in the past couple of seasons with allocations. We are ready for it and with our supporters roaring us on once again, we have our best chance yet to get out of this league.”

Speaking about Tuesday’s epic clash, Margy said: “It was a very real English cup tie and both sides showed a lot of ability and it made for a cracking game.

“Witton didn’t do what many teams do when they come to Gigg Lane and sit back and soak up pressure, they came to play. They were on the front foot and caused us problems.

“It took a special strike from Mattie Wolfenden to break the deadlock, and then after that to a man our team put in an all-action display.

“Wolfy was on fire from the off and that was one of our very deliberate tactics to get him running at their back line. We have kept him fresh the past couple of games to save him for that match.”

A headache now waits for the manager, as he toils over who to select for Saturday. “I keep banging on about our strength in depth, but it was shown in the quality of the bench on Tuesday,” he said.

“To be able to select from such a quality set of players was a big advantage for us and one that will stand us in good stead in the final on Saturday. It will be hard once again to chose a team, but it is a great situation to be in, having so many players to chose from and so many options.”

Finally, Karl wanted to thank the supporters for their backing on Tuesday night: “The fans were absolutely unbelievable. The noise put hairs on the back of my neck at times, it was tremendous and it made a lot of difference.

“It effected Witton in the first half and allowed us to go at them with that amazing roar every time we went forward. I run out of things to say about our fans, but Tuesday was special.

“It is a real advantage for us, especially away from home when we can outnumber the hosts. The noise not only helps our team, it unsettles the opposition.

“I think in our last two semi-finals at Chorley and Bradford, our fans had a huge impact on the results. They created an amazing atmosphere that drove our team on. Let’s hope that is the case again on Saturday. Do your best to get there and roar us on.”

The band appearing at FC United’s pre-match tertulia Course You Can Malcolm on Saturday, go by the name of Sam Smith and Company.

Here is an interview with Sam himself that we have nicked from designermagazine:

How did you get together?
After gigging and receiving airplay as a solo artist, I assembled a band of session musicians, including my sister Katie on bass guitar. Our drummer, Pete is from the north east, he found my ad on gumtree and we’ve been on the up ever since.

The name?
Being a huge fan of solo artists such as Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band, it was essential to have Sam Smith & something and Company was thought up as a form of standardisation, contrary to our music. The name doesn’t reflect the music but it reflects our band logo and our image.

Who are your biggest influences?
Biggest songwriting influence has to be Greg Dulli (Of Twilight Singers and Afghan Wigs fame). Others are Bruce Springsteen, The Smiths, Mark Lanegan, Tom Petty, Noel Gallagher and The Clash.

Where do you go for pre gig food and where do you go post gig clubs in Manchester?
Food has to be Barburrito, although it has gone down hill recently. As for clubs, I wouldn’t know. I would much prefer to watch bands until 11pm and be in bed for 12… That way I can get up early, write music and plug the band online. Rock and roll…

What do you like most about Manchester?
Everything. The architecture, the people, the rebellious nature and individualism of said people. Mainly, the fact that the phrase ‘what Manchester does today, the world does tomorrow’ is as valid as ever. I truly believe that Manchester is the greatest city in the world.

Best gig you’ve been to of all time (and why?)
Too hard to choose. Paul McCartney was great due to the setlist, as was Prince but, gun to my head, New Order at the Apollo in 2005 has to be the best. Simply because they have always been my favourite band.

Fave movie or TV show of all time?
TV show is again, a tough one. The Wire, The Sopranos and Rescue Me as a top three. Being a corrie fanatic though, would be hard to leave that out. As for films, any musician who can watch the film Anvil without bursting into tears should just burn their instruments and become a welder. Best film ever made.

Which football team do you support?
Manchester United Football Club. Had a season ticket for many years now but nothing will ever replace that feeling that I got when Scholes scored arguably his greatest goal against Barca in the champions league semi final back in 2008, sending us to Moscow. I broke my seat because I couldn’t stop jumping. It was early in the game but we just knew.

And finally – final chance to say why we should check you out live?
Because we pull no punches what so ever with our live shows. From aggression and stage invasions to slow intimate moments and emotion, we have it all in our set. If you don’t believe us, chance one of our gigs, I promise you will not be disappointed.

For more on the band, they are on twitter at @samfjsmith apparently…

Or check out their sounds here: https://soundcloud.com/samsmithandcompany

As a thanks to all the regulars, visitors, punters, volunteers and acts who have supported Malcomses this season ALL FOOD WILL BE FREE on Saturday (May 4th V Frickley Athleticals).

We also have a great band for you called Sam Smith and Company, who will be playing for the traditional 22 minutes at about 2.22pm. To hear their tunes visit: samsmithsoundcloud

The band are time-served reds and influences include Neil Young and Crazy Horse, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers and Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band, The Smiths, Mark Lanegan, Tom Petty and The Clash. Read an interview with Sam himself here.

Unfortunately, we can’t offer the same free deal on beer to toast the turn, but we thought by way of thanks and to celebrate the team making the play-offs FC fans deserved something back for their loyalty. This freemans food offer includes tater ash, cheese and onion pies and all volunteer-made food. Brews will also be freemans. There will be a facility (probably a tub) to give a donation if you wish.

You may or may not know, but most departments of the club are issued with a challenge to raise a certain amount during the season. Malcolmses volunteers were set a task and we managed to smash it with two games to go. This is a fantastic achievement. By our own admission we are not businessfolk or great at counting and stuff, so we are particularly chuffed.

Not only does CYCM provide an alternative and unique pre-match experience for fans, we have also proved that the club benefits financially. This is another reason for the freemans food day on Saturday.

Thanks to everyone who has supported and volunteered at the event this season. Special thanks must go to the volunteers who get there silly early to lug and those who have made food for the event – be it cakes, pizza or other dishes.

Mike Noodles’ constant supply of pizza and uncanny ability to find veggie hotdogs even during the frequent droughts has to be applauded, as does the invaluable contribution of the Cawthray family – Stu, Linzi, and mum from the bay have all pulled their tripe out this season with an array of food. Not to mention Jo and her bar team doing their best to quench your thirsts.

The last Malcolmses was a huge success with record takings and amazing generosity shown by attendees who donated a daft amount to the club in return for home-made buffet food.

This will be the last CYCM of the season, so get there early to enjoy the day and get stuck into the nosebag before it all goes…

Yours, as always,

The Oddies

Figures obtained by the MEN show that only 30,000 blues were in town for their much-hyped FA Cup victory parade in May 2011.

Despite winning their first silverware for eternity, their lack of numbers was very striking.

GMP revealed to the MEN that there were a further 30,000 blues at the Etihad Stadium, which in total means only 60,000 blues were part of their celebrations. In fairness to our backward neighbours, that probably reflects the entire body of their support.

It makes a mockery of MEN reports and anecdotes from blues at the time naming figures of 100,000 in town and comments like ‘you couldn’t move it was that packed’.

Meanwhile, United’s woeful parade to celebrate their 19th title, only attracted 12,000 people. Not surprising given the reds lost in the European Cup final that weekend and the parade was held at 10am ish in the pissing rain.

United’s last big parade followed the treble triumph in May 1999 when GMP estimated upwards of 500,000 people filled the streets of Manchester and all the way out to Old Trafford.

Let’s see what happens this time around.

Link to MEN story, which predictably takes a City slant on things:
http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/police-figures-reveal-five-times-3003108

A few years ago an IMUSA and FC United mainhead and me were discussing how we were going to celebrate on the day that thatcher dies. Various ideas were discussed and also a business idea from me to have inflatable gravestone dance-mats manufactured. We’d sell these inflatables to Manchester’s jubilant working class in a jam-packed Albert Square and a mass ding-dong dance-off would take place. The proceeds from my entrepreneurial skillage would go to summat like the Coal Industry Social Welfare Organisation. Just like the imagined lengthy, wild celebrations, the dance-mat never happened. Like most of my decent ideas, it stayed as an idea (if anyone has got a future “go-to market” and wants to “run with this” we can “touch base” and sort me a few akkas in royalties please). What else didn’t happen was the jam-packed Albert Sq. which wasn’t helped by the rotten cow dying on a Monday, although I reckon she probably croaked on the Friday but her chums kept the coffin lid on it so we couldn’t make a weekend out of it.

So Monday it was. The phone was in overdrive with texts of glee and a family get together at ours was quickly arranged. On the way to order the curry I was dropped at my local Openshaw Morrissons to get the beers in. It was when walking through the “Dead Blow” Steamhanner sculpture entrance to our new shopping centre that the anti-climax kicked in. The sculpture is a 29ft, 15 tonne artwork which reflects Openshaw’s industrial history. The area, once brimming with heavy industry, was a community full of skilled and semi-skilled people. Rather than give these industries the support that the likes of the successful economies of Japan and Germany got, thatcher made sure these industries were killed off. They were a threat to her holding power. They were the foundation of the labour movement and thatcher made sure they choked just like she did in Liverpool, Sheffield, Birmingham, Leeds, Sunderland and Newcastle. They were already suffering a decline when she got in but instead of getting a boost they got the boot. She preferred to give these workers dole than support.

An indicator for what was to come happened a few hundred yards away from the Dead Blow at the Laurence Scott & Electromotors (LSE) works just less than two years after the bastard got in power.

I was one year into my apprenticeship and on block release at Openshaw Technical College where thousands of skilled Mancunians, mainly engineers, had been attending since the 1880s. We went on a field trip to LSE around September 1980 to see how electric motors were manufactured. Control of the company which had plants at four other UK locations had just been acquired by The Mining Supplies Group who had just bought 30% of the shares. The place was buzzing with activity and graft. As we toured the factory the seemingly high-spirited workers showed us the manufacturing process and took the piss in equal measure. All seemed to be well and LSE was portrayed to us as an efficient outfit vital to the mining industry at home and abroad and to the Ministry of Defence. Just over six months later, in April 1981, the 650 workers were told that their plant would be closing down, the minimum possible redundancy was to be paid and horrible Mining Supplies chairman Arthur Snipe told them that there would be no negotiation. What followed was a 12 month long battle in which the workers went on strike and occupied the plant. Snipe was soon forced into talks due to pressure from the National Coal Board via the NUM and 3 weeks of pickets from Openshaw at his main firm in Doncaster. However the NUM said they would only consider blacking LSE products if all of their plants came out on strike which didn’t happen. In July 1981 The Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers (AUEW) told the Openshaw LSE strikers to go back to work. The workers voted overwhelmingly to defy this order and carry on the strike. In August with the strike now declared illegal, bailiffs retook the plant by smashing their way in with sledgehammers and pick axe handles and evicting the occupiers at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t the end though. That came in November when, in a plan like summat out of Operation Entebbe, arranged with Greater Manchester Police (who had pledged throughout that they could supply 2 officers for each picket), masked men flew helicopters in over the picket lines to retrieve £3 million worth of orders that were being held to ransom.

The seeds were planted for what was to follow and how thatcher could use division (her forte) and the dibble, truncheoning any bastard that got in her way, to defeat what might have appeared to be a strong trade union movement. What followed was the decimation of M11 and industrial communities throughout Britian . What this dispute showed was that although workers were strong and solid in their own communities and workplaces, they could not rely on support from outside. A green light for the divide and conquer of thatcherism.

And so she won and is still winning. She would have been made up with all our engineering and steel plants shut down and us with a Steamhammer sculpture, a Morrissons, a B&M, a Cash Converter and a Poundland to replace them and all staffed with non-union labour. The framed photos in Morrissons of the Ferguson-Pailin switchgear works that dwarfed the house I was born in and the massive B&S Massey works are a nice touch but at the same time rub our noses in the dirt.

Back home, a nice curry, some nice beer and above all nice company of my own making were doing a good job of providing a good vibe to our impromptu party and helping me refocus on my intended celebration following my hearing of the horrid twat’s death. Despite Fergie’s usual treatment of the derby, via dodgy internet stream, we had a good night. But she has still won. Any party to celebrate her death, however you might have enjoyed it can only be followed by the sobering fact that she has won. She’s died a winner; her political heirs are continuing her damage. She’ll be fucking made up. We’re all going to die and if you die aged 87 knowing that summat you set out to do is progressing in a way you could only dream of then you die happy

It’s no surprise the twats in power now have used her death as a massive advert for their current policies that are built on and a continuation of hers. It’s been a piece of piss for them as Blair and Brown that governed before them made it oh so easy by failing to reverse any of the witch’s dismantling of any form of community and even more annoyingly, bumming her at any opportunity.

We’re fucked. This is it. All we had as mass protest was the Ding Dong song that the BBC, which we pay for, stifled.

Then came the funeral. More nose in the fucking dirt. The rotter that privatised everything got a funeral that the public paid for at a cost of £10 million? Why weren’t we fucking rioting over that decision? Why didn’t all her business mates and supporters foot the bill if that’s what they wanted? Well the answer to that is obvious – the servile British will cough up cos they’re the same mugs that tolerate and pay for the royal family.

She’s won and celebrating her death now seems pointless to me. She’s left us nothing to celebrate. She was always going to die and if she had died a loser then we could have proper partied but she’s died a winner. We’d have looked pretty stupid if we’d have celebrated Hitler’s death whilst losing WWII while his legacy, the Nazi party, continued to wipe out millions of people and  take over the Europe.

Across the road from my current house in Openshaw is the AEU (predecessor to the AEUW) Club. It should have been buzzing on the night of thatcher’s death but sadly most of the locals from my generation and younger don’t know what the letters AEU mean. Like the Dead Blow it is now just a reminder of what community we had. The engineering isn’t coming back, not just in Openshaw but anywhere and neither is the lost steel, mining or shipbuilding. But hey great news. Whilst thatcher was on her way into the incinerator building work was continuing just 30 yards away from the Dead Blow – we’re getting our first McDonalds offering Nuggetsmith and Burgerwright apprenticeships.

Anonymous is a loosely associated hacktivist group. It originated in 2003 on the imageboard 4chan, representing the concept of many online and offline community users simultaneously existing as an anarchic, digitised global brain. It is also generally considered to be a blanket term for members of certain Internet subcultures, a way to refer to the actions of people in an environment where their actual identities are not known. It strongly opposes Internet censorship and surveillance, and has hacked various government websites. It has also targeted major security corporations. It also opposes Scientology, government corruption and homophobia. Its members can be distinguished in public by the wearing of stylised Guy Fawkes masks. In its early form, the concept was adopted by a decentralised online community acting anonymously in a coordinated manner, usually toward a loosely self-agreed goal, and primarily focused on entertainment. From 2008, the Anonymous collective became increasingly associated with collaborative, international hacktivism. They undertook protests and other actions in retaliation against anti-digital piracy campaigns by motion picture and recording industry trade associations. They have been called the freedom fighters of the Internet, a digital Robin Hood, and “anarchic cyber-guerrillas”.

Although not necessarily tied to a single online entity, many websites are strongly associated with Anonymous. This includes notable imageboards such as 4chan, their associated wikis, Encyclopædia Dramatica. After a series of controversial, widely publicised protests, distributed denial of service (DDoS) and website defacement attacks by Anonymous in 2008, incidents linked to its members increased. In consideration of its capabilities, Anonymous was posited by CNN in 2011 as being one of the three major successors to WikiLeaks. In 2012, Time named Anonymous as one of the most influential groups in the world.

The name Anonymous itself is inspired by the perceived anonymity under which users post images and comments on the Internet. Usage of the term Anonymous in the sense of a shared identity began on imageboards. A tag of Anonymous is assigned to visitors who leave comments without identifying the originator of the posted content. Users of imageboards sometimes jokingly acted as if Anonymous were a real person. The concept of the Anonymous entity advanced in 2004 when an administrator on the 4chan image board activated a “Forced_Anon” protocol that signed all posts as Anonymous. As the popularity of imageboards increased, the idea of Anonymous as a collective of unnamed individuals became an Internet meme.

‘We are Anonymous. We are Legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us’.

It is impossible to ‘join’ Anonymous, as there is no leadership, no ranking, and no single means of communication. Anonymous is spread over many mediums and languages, with membership being achieved simply by wishing to join.

A person known as Commander X provided interviews and videos about Anonymous. In 2011, he was at the centre of an investigation. According to Commander X, People’s Liberation Front (PLF), a collective of hactivists founded in 1985, acted with AnonOps, another sub-group of Anonymous, to carry out DDoS attacks against government websites in Tunisia, Iran, Egypt, and Bahrain. Explaining the relationship between Anonymous and the PLF, he suggested an analogy to NATO, with the PLF being a smaller sub-group that could choose to opt in or out of a specific project. ‘AnonOps and the PLF are both capable of creating huge “Internet armies”. The main difference is AnonOps moves with huge force, but very slowly because of their decision making process. The PLF moves with great speed, like a scalpel’.

The Low Orbit Ion Cannon is a network stress testing application that has been used by Anonymous to accomplish its DDoS attacks. Individual users download the LOIC and voluntarily contribute their computer to a bot net. This bot net is then directed against the target by AnonOps. Joining the bot net and volunteering one’s resources for the use of the group is thus one way of being a “member”, a concept that is otherwise hard to define.