Leeds pipped us. Just. On to 1992/93.

All that remained was a final catalyst to propel the squad into what would become the most decorated era in the clubs history: the squad was established with experienced pros and a smattering of young upstarts; the manager unequivocally the master of his domain. One link needed to create a winning culture, a winning atmosphere and stratospheric work-ethic-standards.

Continue reading


Approximately ten minutes after Anthony Martial scored against Everton in the semi-final, I was using Tipp-Ex for the first time in about thirty years. The one-time must have accessory for any school neat-freak was being used, hastily, to cover the damage I’d caused to the 3D Butterfly picture that had previously sat on our living room wall.

Continue reading

Mour to come…

A bullish, determined and a very well prepared Jose Mourinho announced to the global media that he intended to ‘promote youth and get the team playing well’ during his first 90 days at United. He sniped at philosophies and bravely told everyone to forget the previous three years of garbage. All the right things said, supporters lifted and optimism back in abundance.

Continue reading

And we will fight for ever more…

Friday 22nd Sept, 1989. Frederick Street, Denton.

It is the eve of the Manchester Derby, the first in recent years following City’s return to the first division. The poor neighbours, long in our shadow in light of our glorious success of the 80s (a couple of cup wins amplifying bragging rights). Nonetheless, fifteen year old me is in no doubt as to who the pride of Manchester is.

Continue reading

Yes Way, Jose

After the worst season I’ve ever encountered watching United, it seems inconceivable to me that ‘reds’ of all ages are currently debating the merits of finally bringing Jose Mourinho to Old Trafford, three years after he, you, Paddy Crerand and well… everyone other than Sir Alex Ferguson, Sir Bobby Charlton and Ed Woodward, thought he should arrive.

Continue reading

Good Times are Calling

It’s Saturday April 9, ninety minutes before kick-off, and in a complete role reversal to Premier League football, some players are filming the arrival of a supporter’s mini-bus. With windows open and a microphone in the hand of the ring-leader, the occupants are being led in song, almost Ultra-style; the mini-bus has literally ‘rocked up’ Harrison Drive to the ground.

Continue reading