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Showing posts from December, 2019

The Bipolar Years (Part 4: The The Rangers Trilogy: A Tale of Three Clubs)

1. Beautiful Sunday The best away game I’ve been at by a distance. Why?   Winning at the Big Hoose is always special.   Winning at the Big Hoose the day before they were about to go fucking Pete Tong and everyone knew it was absolutely magical.   I don’t get to many away games but there was no way I was missing this one.   A lot of people will rightly cite either of the two games below against the new club with Rangers in it’s name as the best atmosphere they’ve been in as a United fan and the biggest pish-ripping sessions they’ve ever experienced. But make no mistake, ask anyone of the 1000-or-so United fans who were at this game and they will tell you that this one was the best and the most brutal assassination of their support and club.   Beating the real thing will always top beating the tribute act.   We were outstanding in the first half and it is incredible to think that less than 5 months ago we looked like a disjointed mess of a team.   GMS and on this day, Stuart A

The Bipolar Years (Part 3: 2011-2012-Who’s for Badminton?)

Cast: All Change Our team had seen some significant departures as several of the cup winning team took the chance to ‘break’ England.   Morgaro Gomis moved to Birmingham City who had just been relegated from the Premiership while his partner in crime Prince Buaben moved to Watford, also in the Championship.   Mihael Kovacevic moved abroad following the previous season which had been badly affected by injury.   Darren Dods moved on to Falkirk with the best wishes of everyone at Tannadice (he would continue to be the model pro right into his forties) whilst David Robertson surprisingly turned down the offer of a new United contract and moved to St Johnstone seeking regular football.   Robertson picked up a bad injury there and his career never recovered.   I always had a feeling that he would never be as appreciated anywhere else as he was at United because his attributes could look well hidden, although they were there.   Finally, and for me perhaps most sadly, was Craig Conway’s