February 19, 2011
Hate

What is hate? Why do we hate? I’ve never understood why we hate each other. Maybe because I’m Christian I should hate you as a Muslim just because you are one. Why? Not all Germans were or are Nazis and not all Muslims are terrorists. Look at the IRA or the KKK. Terror organisations and not Muslim. Why should I hate you because you are gay, Muslim, Jewish, Chinese, Brazilian, orange, 6ft tall, blue eyed, blond, right handed, just different from me? Why? And even those few people who do something doesn’t mean everyone of that race, creed, nationality is the same. Not every American is George Bush and not everyone from Texas is a cowboy and not everyone from India is a doctor and not everyone from China is clever and not everyone from Brazil is Pele. You can’t tar everyone with the same brush. Don’t judge before you know. Hate has become such a heavily used word in today’s society. I say that I hate Justin Bieber. How can I? I don’t know him. He annoys me and I don’t know why he’s famous, but I don’t hate him just because he’s in some way different. I can’t possibly. We can’t all have the same opinion or same appearance or same opinions or same cultures. An example of this is sports teams. If we all agreed on everything then there would be one sports team. That would be extremely pointless and boring. What is the thing that defines us as humanity? Imagination. Creativity. Free thought. If we hate or ostricise or condemn or differentiate between different people then we might as well hand ourselves over to Big Brother right now. What’s the point in hating someone for this or that? It’s so much energy wasted. As time progresses we have more and more differing views. How would an anti-gay protester like to be ostricised for his opinion? How would a Christian like to be condemned for his religion because of a few extremists? How do Americans feel when they travel and pretend to be Canadian? What’s the point in having to be this or that and if you aren’t then you are hated for being American, Muslim, gay, overweight, someone with glasses, etc? All I want to know is why? If you hate someone because they, personally, have wronged you so badly that you loathe them with every fibre of your being that is different. A rape victim hating their rapist is different from hating a Muslim for 9/11.

If you hate someone for something as petty as that…..

imagine how they feel about you.

February 5, 2011
World Peace

People are always going on about how there should be world peace, blah, blah blah. It is possible you know. How do I know it’s possible? If a Dutchman, 4 Englishmen, a Serbian, a Frenchman, a Scotsman, a Welshman, an Irishman, a Portugese…man, a Bulgarian, a Brazilian, and a South Korean(and some others) under the command of a Scotsman, with the following of at least 1 billion people worldwide can fight towards a common goal, then world peace is possible. Manchester United brings people of different nationalities, creeds, backgrounds, religions, colours, and even some aliens together. And then even beyond United, there are heaps more football teams that live and die for their teams more so than their countries if origin. If the sport of football can bring so many people together towards a common aim, then why is there not world peace? Something as simple as football unites so many people, yet there are at least 3 different countries having a revolution, the global economy is going to Hell, millions live in abject poverty, and there are genocides going unnoticed. How is this possible? It doesn’t make any sense. Therefore United is So support United and achieve world peace!!!!

January 29, 2011
First United Match

This is my new favourite blog because it is the best source of information about Manchester United. This story really hit home to me because about the same time(maybe the year after) I went to see my first Manchester United match, at Old Trafford too!, thanks to my Uncle Roy. The company he worked for had a box so I was in there, but we also had seats in the stadium. United won 7-1. It was fantastic. That cemented my love for United. I was already a United “fan”, but I didn’t really understand until that day when I was 6-7 what it truly meant to support Manchester United. No one can truly understand unless they’ve been there and seen it for themselves. It’s life changing. And this story reminds me of that cold Manchester day 13 years ago, possibly the most important day of my life….

October 18, 2010
Football is a religion

If anyone looks at my info on Facebook they’ll notice that my religion is Manchester United. Everytime I say this, usually jokingly, people give me shit for it. “That’s not a real religion” etc, etc, etc. Well let’s see: Catholicism - I’ll burn in Hell, Judaism - I’ll burn in Jewish Hell, Islam - (sorry for my ignorance) I’ll burn somewhere lol, Mormonism - I think I’m even beyond hope for them, Atheists - they’re crazy, and I don’t know where i’d burn because they have no Hell lol. See I’m pretty much screwed in every religion lol. Not that I don’t believe in some higher order, I’m more of an Agnostic, I believe the term is. I believe in something. But until that something is confirmed, my religion is Manchester United. We have a God - Sir Matt Busby. We have saints - Sir Alex Ferguson and Sir Bobby Charlton. We have disciples - Wayne Rooney, Ryan Giggs, Ole Gunnar Solksjaer, and innumerable others. We have follwers - being the most followed football team ever. We have holy scriptures(well, there’s holes in them for the staples lol) - Match Day programmes. We have religous songs - Glory, Glory Man United, etc. We have our place of worship - Old Trafford. We even have religous enemies - Liverpool, Manchester City, Barcelona, Chelsea, Arsenal, etc.

See it’s not that much different from a religion. As much as I may be blaspheming to every religion in existence, including those Floridian snake worshippers, this is my belief. You have yours, I have mine. My belief in United is as strong as yours is in your higher order. AND as a bonus, you can support my “religion” with none of the guilt you would get from others lol. UNITED, UNITED, UNITED!!!!!

September 7, 2010
Born on a Different Cloud

Born on a different cloud from the ones that have burst round town It’s no surprise to me that yer classless, clever and free

Loaded just like a gun You’re the hero that’s still unsung Living on borrowed time You’re my sun and you’re gonna shine

Talking to myself again This time I think I’m getting through It’s funny how you think It’s funny how, it’s funny how you do

Lonely soul Busy working overtime Nothing ever gets done Specially when your hands are tied

Lonely soul Baking up your mother’s pride Nothing ever gets done Not until your war’s won

We’re born on a different cloud You’re born on a different cloud We’re born on a different cloud We’re born on a different cloud

We’re born on a different cloud We’re born on a different cloud We’re born on a different cloud We’re born on a different cloud

Born on a different cloud Born on a different cloud Born on a different cloud

Sometimes I feel like I was born on a different cloud to everyone else because no one makes sense anymore. They say this, but it means that. It’s like everyone has just lost themselves, just given up. I’m not sure why, but it seems as though everyone is really downtrodden. It’s all well and good being wonderful all the time, but what’s the point if no one else is in the same frame of mind? Everyone is so dejected and despondent. Cheer up everyone, it’s not that bad.

Take note of what the great philosopher Garius Go-ickus once said in Wonderful.

The person that you were has died You’ve lost the sparkle in your eyes You fell for life into its traps Now you wanna bridge the gaps Now you wanna bridge the gaps Now you want that person back And all your ammunition’s gone Run out of fuel to carry on You don’t know what you wanna do You’ve got no pull to pull you through Say “I am” Say “I am” Say “I am wonderful” Say “I am” Say “I am” Say “I am wonderful” If what you’ve lost cannot be found And the weight of the world weighs you down No longer with the will to fly You stop to let it pass you by Don’t stop to let it pass you by You’ve gotta look yourself in the eye Say “I am” Say “I am” Say “I am wonderful” Oh you are Say “I am” Say “I am” Say “I am wonderful” Cause we are all miracles wrapped up in chemicals We are incredible Don’t take it for granted, no We are all miracles Oh we are Say “I am” Say “I am” Say “I am wonderful” Oh you are Don’t take it for granted, no We are all miracles wrapped up, yeah we’re wrapped up Oh we are wonderful.

We are. We are all so unbelievably fantastic. Even if we aren’t the smartest or the most dedicated or have the best looks or have millions or whatever, we are all phenomenally brilliant. Calm down, take a deep breath, put it in perspective, and don’t worry about it. Instead of worrying or panicking, deal with it. Everything will work out in the end. Don’t worry about it my little Wonderwalls(it’s playing lol) just keep calm, carry on, and as Montius Pythonicus said: “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”. Keep your heads up, or you might just drown.

August 30, 2010
Chances

The title really has nothing to do with this, it’s just a song I bought today lol. Things are changing. “The Doctor: The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”(that’s right I’m quoting Doctor Who lol). There are things happening that are beyond my control. I’m stuck in the middle of a conflict. A conflict over nothing. I’m stranded in the middle like no man’s land in Korea. Two factions within one group. I don’t want to choose, I just want things to go back to how they were 10 months ago. Back to normal. I don’t want to have to make a choice. If I’m forced to make a choice, I’ll take the 3rd option. The coward’s way out. Walk away. Never look back. There’s no point. Having to plan everything around the two sides so as not to cause conflict. The constant background noise going on. I’m growing tired of having to choose. I agree with the Doctor though. The good outways the bad. The bad is still there, but the good is still there too. I’m sure everyone remembers my bouts of depression that I recounted into blogs like this. Well I’ve realised what brought those about. Depression is in style at the minute. People need to be felt sorry for. So I did it to fit in. It’s like being a sheep, one falls off a cliff, so do the rest. Everyone was going through bouts of depression, some genuine, so I did what I’ve always done. I tried to fit in. Tried to impress people. But I also realised how wrong I’ve been. What is the one thing that draws people in? The one thing that makes me stand out? The one thing that I have strived for 10 years to keep the same? The one and only thing I’ve never changed for the sake of others. My accent. My heritage. My Britishness. I am English through and through. I kept my accent through subconcious effort. Only in the last two years have I made the effort. My image has changed from group of friends to group of friends, but that is the one constant. The thing that shows me I’m independent. I don’t need to impress. I’m me. Who are you? Not me, so why does it matter what you think. I’m here and I’m staying.

Actually let’s incorporate the lyrics. Chances by Athlete

Take all your chances while you can You never know when they’ll pass you by Like a sum the mathematician cannot solve Like me trying my hardest to explain

It’s all about your cries and kisses Those first steps that I can’t calculate I need some more of you to take me over

Take me over

If I had the chance to start again Then you would be the one I’d come and find Like the poster of Berlin on my wall Maybe there’s a chance our walls might fall

It’s all about your cries and kisses Those first steps that I can’t calculate I need some more of you to take me over

It’s all about your cries and kisses Those first steps that I can’t calculate I need some more of you to take me over

I’ve no idea ‘cause I cant calculate

How to start again How to start again How to start again How to start again

It’s all about you

Well it’s all about me, but who’s counting lol.

August 17, 2010
The Theatre of Dreams

I’ve been going to Old Trafford once a year for the last 5 years. I’ve been a Manchester United fan for as long as I can remember. But nothing can compare with last night. The night of my first Home Manchester United match. The story starts about 6 weeks ago. I bought my ticket on July 16th and received confirmation on the 20th. I would be going to Old Trafford to watch Manchester United vs Newcastle! I almost cried, I was so happy. I couldn’t stop telling people. As August began, I got an email saying my ticket had been sent. More good news. So I flew to England, spending 7 days with my wonderful family awaiting the big match. Saturday, 2 days until the match, still no ticket. So I ring up the Ticket Office, I speak to Steve, and they apologise profusely saying there is a duplicate and that I should pick them up before the match. Sunday, just over 24 hours left, I travel to Manchester. 1st stop: Old Trafford. The taxi drops me off just outside the Munich Tunnel, commemorating the lives lost in the Munich Air Disaster on February 6th, 1958. I make my first purchase within 1 minute: a “protest” scarf protesting the owners, which is yellow and green for the colours of Newton and Heath FC manchester United’s first name. Then I purchase my programme for the following day. There’s only one more thing I need before I’m ready. A shirt. One of the new ones. So I stride into the Megastore next to the East Stand(which has more part to play in this story). The shirts are displayed across this amazing spectacle of Red and white. I go over and I see it, FLETCHER 24, XL. Mine! I then take another 45 minutes going round looking at other things buying a United training shirt, Manchester United logo sterling silver ring, and shorts. I leave the stadium fresh with the knowledge that I shall return. Monday morning, 800 am, 12 hours until kick off. I throw on my newly acquired FLETCHER 24 shirt, raring to go. I see the family some more, and then half 4 I get on the tram with 1 other fan and an employee(lucky sod lol) at Old Trafford. I was on my way. The tram terminated at Piccadilly so we all exited at Piccadilly Gardens to connect to Old Trafford. There were hundreds of other fans on this tiny platform. So many, I missed the first tram. So the second tram was mine. Me and my companions(unfortunately they remained anonymous) boarded our glory bound chariot joined by our fellow Reds in scarves. The announcement is made: “All trams terminating at Old Trafford”. A cheer goes out! 2 stations left and we will be there, I pull my aforementioned “protest” scar from my pocket. I’m ready. We arrive. Droves of fans are moving forwards. I practically run(until I meet a group of Bobbys) towards the stadium in excitement, until I reach the traffic lights and the true extent of fandom is realised. The hundreds of fans behind me shrink in comparison to the thousands in front of me. People selling scarves and programmes, rings and badges, pictures and trinkets, fans everywhere. I reach the stadium, time for my ticket. I produce my Nevada Drivers’ Licence as my photo ID and they hand me the best piece of paper in history. Something I’d wanted for 15 years. Waited for 2 months for. The ticket. MANCHESTER UNITED vs NEWCASTLE UNITED, 16th August, Kick-off: 800 pm. I had it. So I strove to find my seat. The ticket office was near the West Stand(the infamous Stretford End) and North Stand. So I walked looking for E32. But before that, I see a crowd of fans and a coach. Could it be? Unfortunately not, 20 minutes for Newcastle’s team. So I moved on, South Stand. Where was E32? There it was, the East Stand. I had been dropped off there 30 hours previous by the taxi. I was there. I presented my ticket, through the turnstile, up 4 flights of stairs(running) and I find E333. My section. I ran up the seven steps in the section into the mid-evening air and there in front of me: the great expanse of the 75,000 seating football Colloseum, Old Trafford. Specifically the world famous Stretford End. I could see the fantastically green pitch, the West, North, and South stands, the away supporters, everything. Even parts of the City of Manchester. I went back into the stadium, put on a bet, bought a sausage roll and Diet Coke, and went back to my seat: Row 14, seat 101. For the next 50 minutes I sang along to Glory Glory Man United with the other fans as they rushed to their seats, watched the two teams train, had a crowd to crowd argument with the Newcastle section, and prepared for kick-off. 800: the crowd is buzzing with expectation, when the announcer came onto the loudspeaker, “WELCOME TO THE HOME OF MANCHESTER UNITED, THE THEATRE OF DREAMS, OLD TRAFFORD!!!” Cheers, chants, clapping, excitement ripples through the stadium as the teams appear from the tunnel. They lined up as the announcer boomed out the teams amid boos and jeers for Newcastle from the United fans and cheering and clapping overshadowing the Newcastle fans for United. KICK OFF! The match was underway. Manchester United dominated until the 15th minute when Newcastle’s attack and subsequent corner were stopped by Edwin van der Sar. In the 30th minute Paul Scholes orchestrated a fantastic attack resulting in a fantastic goal by Dimitar Berbatov who bulleted the ball past Steve Harper. The crowd went ballistic, including me. “SCORER FOR MANCHESTER UNITED! NUMBER 9! DIMITAR BERBATOV!!!”. The crowd, spurred on by my section being next to the Geordies, started a chant “WHO ARE YA!” Since they had been bragging about being “Championes” for being promoted. They responded with chants of “USA!” Because of the Glazier family who are the out of favour owners(protest scarves)and trying to put off Wayne Rooney after the World Cup, so the response was “GOING DOWN! YOU’RE GOING DOWN! YOU’RE GOING DOWN! WHO ARE YA! YOU ARE GOING DOWN! YOU’RE GOING DOWN!” And so on. That shut them up, but not as much as the event of the 41st minute. Nani ran up the wing, like he does, pulling in three defenders, who didn’t see the onrushing Patrice Evra. Nani threaded the ball through to the Frenchman who put it across to Rooney who failed to put the ball into the net, bouncing it off a defender, but it fell to a United player and it was in the net! CHEERS rang around the ground that it almost silenced the announcement “THE SCORER FOR MANCHESTER UNITED! NUMBER 24! DARREN FLETCHER!!!” Does that name and number ring a bell? Just 30 hours before I had purchased a new AON Manchester United shirt with FLETCHER 24. Looks like I knew. Halftime: 2-0 to United. During the second half United dominated again, but Rooney struggled to reach form, so Chicharito was brought on amid thundering cheers, which had started since he had begun training on the sideline. But in the mid 70 minutes, something happened. Another substitution. A man walked toward the line wearing the number 11 amid riotous cheers. The reason he was cheered is because he is a legend, and he showed his legendary status in the 71st minute. He shot from just outside the box and it beat Harper at his far post to make it 3-0. “THE SCORER FOR MANCHESTER UNITED! NUMBER 11! RYAN GIGGS!!! The game was officially over. The only other events in the match were Joey Barton being typically Barton and getting a yellow card, plus some pathetic decisions where the ref gave Scholes and Fletcher yellow cards for nothing. In the 82nd minute came the announcement “THE ATTENDANCE AT OLD TRAFFORD TODAY: 74, 811!” A sold out stadium, but obviously some of the Geordies knew what would happen. I left the stadium just after the whistle, after the cheer and clapping for a successful day out. I left the stadium amongst all the happy United fans, bought another scarf, the matchday scarf, and returned to Bury. That was the best day of my life(so far of course lol). An absolutely brilliant occasion. The best way to have my first Old Trafford match experience. I can’t wait to go back:). Come on United!! GLORY GLORY MAN UNITED!!!!!

July 18, 2010
It’s not just a game

The two armies line up. They face each other. The objectives clear. Winning is the only outcome allowable. The battle rages on and on. Heroes fall, leave the battlefield, injured, disgraced, dishonoured. One side has the upper hand, but then the other retaliates. Legends are being born. Honour being fought for. Unbelievable riches lie at the journey’s end. But neither side can be moved. So each sides’ heroes take turns doing battle. First battle, he strikes and doesn’t miss a beat. Second battle: another killer blow. Each sides’ heroes battle like this going back and forth until, coming to the final few heroes, history is made. One hero falls, the other rises to the almighty occasion. Another hero steps forth to put the final nail in the coffin, the fatal wound, the final strike. Hearts pound, time slows, spectators in this great colloseum of war silent with anticipation. Time slows so that a tick seems an hour, a moment an eternity. Then the moment comes. Time quickens. Heartbeats rise. Breath held. An almighty cheer goes out. The final blow has been dealt. They are the victors. The spoils theirs. Their people honoured and vindicated. Celebrations continue for weeks, parades go through cities, towns, nations. They have won the battle, the war, the honour, the glory….. What’s the difference between war and football? Well ancient battle and football. The only difference? In war you can die. In football: pretty hard to die. But the honour the passion, the attributes, the status of the heroes, the honour, the spoils, everything is the same. The beautiful game or the Trojan War, identical. War is as thrilling as it was when Julius Caesar fought, when Napolean ruled, when King Richard the Lionheart. Hector vs Achilles or Lampard vs Neuer. A penalty shootout or heroes squaring off. The heroes battle til the end. And to the victor goes the spoils.

June 27, 2010
England

It’s 3:00 a.m. on a Saturday(Sunday) and I’m still awake. Many people will ask why, many wouldn’t understand, most wouldn’t care(at least in America). In 4 hours England play Germany in the Round of 16 of the World Cup. Thousands of miles away 22 men will step onto the pitch representing their countries with pride and honour. While in the middle of Las Vegas at 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning I will be willing on England to win. I can’t sleep. I don’t think I will sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I want it to start. I can’t wait for this match. If England progress they will go to the quarter finals. If they lose they’ll be going to the airport. Who stands in our way? Our oldest rival. The team we had to overcome on home soil to win in 1966. Germany. Another great and proud footballing nation. Why should I care? It’s just a game. No! It’s more than that. Here people watch baseball or basketball or American football, but it’s not the same. The Lakers play the Celtics. The Yankees play the Red Sox. The Patriots play the Packers. But this is different. People support those teams, and there are diehard fans, but many drift from team to team bandwagoning, as in any league. This is different. This is the reason that over 200 million people in England and Germany will sing and chant and roar their hearts out. This may be a game, but this is bigger than an NBA final, a Superbowl, the Premier League, Stanley Cup, Champions League, NCAA tournament, whatever. This is the World Cup. Nation pitted against nation. Pride is on the line. Emotions shall soar like an eagle. People will literally stop their lives to watch tomorrows match. Millions of people at the same time. Yet only one can triumph. One can progress. The other must be defeated. A rivalry 60 years in the making football wise, but this isn’t about the past. This isn’t about that final at Wembley, 44 years of hurt, the 3 titles Germany has. This is now. And now sees two rivals face again. Face off across the pitch. The crowd will sing, the vuvuzelas will blow, and one shall prevail. This is when it becomes more than a game. People try to tell me Yankees - Red Sox or Patriots - Packers, Lakers-Celtics, Manchester United- Manchester City, whatever are a big deal, and they are. But nothing compares to seeing your national team go onto that pitch and bare it all for the honour and pride and glory of their nation. Nothing compares. In 4 hours I will be there with those 200 million+ wherever they may be, watching, praying, hoping, shouting, that my country, my team, can do me and my fellow countrymen proud, and win. This is the World Cup and it’s worth the sleep deprivation, to watch them play. COME ON ENGLAND!!!!

June 14, 2010
One Blood

This is a song from Green Street Hooligans when they are about to fight their rival firm(band of passionate fans or hooligans). This song was created by Terence Jay, in the film, especially for the film. It symbolises the moment when they are all walking to the fight, some almost certain not to return, or to return injured, over something some people would call stupid or trivial which was a football match. But they believed in it strongly enough that they were willing to fight for what they believed in. They were willing to risk their lives over it. Now many people would say that’s stupid and that would never happen. Passion is the word. Passion, true passion is something completely different in football. In America everyone cheers on their teams and wears their colours with pride, but in other countries people represent their team all the time. Good or bad. They literally bleed for their team. It’s more than a game. There is something that I absolutely hate about sports. Bandwagoners. Now if your team gets knocked out and you pick another one, that’s fair, but you go back to your team, you are still technically a supported of your team. I don’t understand basketball so I just pick the team I like the sound or colours of. But there is a huge difference between that and supporting someone just because they are good. Brazil is a huge example. I’ll use my friend Hyder for example, sorry Hyder I hope you don’t mind lol. He supports Brazil, but unlike most people, who aren’t from Brazil, who support them because they win all the time, he supports them because that is the team he grew up watching. The team he follows. The team he supports. Unlike many other people who look at Brazil as consitent winners and choose them. Not all their fans are like that, there are some yellow blooded, through and through Brazil fans as there are English, Spanish, German, whatever, but I can’t stand the bandwagoners. The ones who suddenly cheer for whoever is winning. Not the ones with the passion, the fire, the spirit, the determination to follow your team no matter what! No these are the people who always want to win. England hasn’t won since 1966, should I support Italy because they won last time? NO! Hell No! And I wouldn’t expect any self respecting, yet decidely greasy, Italian to support any other country than their own unless Italy gets knocked out. If your team loses and you support another team for that tournament, fair enough, but you don’t go for the winner because they are the winner. You go for you team. The team you have that passion for. ENGERLAND, ENGERLAND, ENGERLAND!!!!! COME ON ENGLAND, COME ON ENGLAND, COME ON ENGLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREE LIONS ON OUR SHIRT, NO MORE NEED FOR DREAMING, NO MORE YEARS OF HURT!!!!! England is my team. It’s my country. It’s my passion. There are teams we support when ours don’t make it, like I want the Netherlands to do well, but it’s first and foremost England. If England plays the Netherland then fuck the orange bastards becase it’s time for England!

Before I blow up, here’s the song One Blood by Terence Jay:

In the far away fires
Where the hills forever burn
At the feet of our heroes
We try hard to learn
But the lesson is lost there
In the smoke and the mud
That we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood

I stood by the river
That ran red with shame
I stood in the killing fields
Where death had no name
I stood with my brothers
And away it flood
And we where one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood

Then I felt to the ground
Tasted ashes on my tongue
Thinking that only the death
Are forever young

There was peace in the twilight
And for a moment among
It was a world without danger
A world without war
And I will take all your suffering
It will do any good
Cause we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood