Fans Comment
Rob Hamilton

Advice for Wayne
27 August 2004

Sit down, Wayne, you need advice, and I'm going to offer it to you free and gratis. It is now, more than ever, that you need to reflect on exactly where your career is heading. Any advice forthcoming from your odious management company, whose agenda is blatantly obvious to any discerning football supporter, will be tainted. So, listen up.

They'll tell you that if you sign for Manchester United you'll be playing for one of the top club teams in Europe. Well, that may have been true any time during the last ten years - but now? The spine of this present United team is ageing and becoming somewhat less than invincible. Roy Keane, Paul Scholes, Ryan Giggs and the Neville Brothers are all approaching the twilight of their careers. Speaking of the Neville Brothers, if you can stand to be in the same city, let alone the same dressing room, as Pip and Gaz Bastard, who appear to hate Scousers more than some of the Neanderthals slumped at the Stretford End do, then you'll fit in a treat. Of course, the biggest drawback in this scenario is that Sir Alex Ferguson is about 172 years of age and will, in all probability, retire within the next couple of years, or simply drop dead in the technical area at O.T. complaining of old age and red-eyed boredom.

Will United continue their success under a new manager? Who knows? It is fair comment to suggest that Sir Alex has set a standard that will be hard to emulate, let alone improve on, and it is not beyond the realms of possibility, football being what it is, that David Moyes will be installed as the next Manchester United manager. (Well, what else is this True Blue boardroom capable of?) What happens then, Wayne? You didn't want to play for him at Goodison, would it be any different playing for him elsewhere?

Oh, and by the way, in case you hadn't noticed, your knowledge of local football history being somewhat vague, 'mancs' hate 'scousers' with a passion that is unrivalled anywhere in the football world - and it has to be said it is entirely and unequivocally reciprocal. If you haven't heard the one about the Scouser and the hubcaps, you surely will every time you misplace a pass or fluff a shot. Even our not-so-lovely neighbours across the park engender a familial respect beyond anything that emanates from the fair city of Manchester. Yes, the Old Trafford faithful will like you if you knock in 20 goals a season, but if you have a couple of iffy games they will crucify you with a passion unseen outside the Roman Coliseum during the eradication of the Christians. Why? Because good 'ole Crocky cuts no ice in the back streets of Stretford or Moss Side - and you thought Croxteth was down market? Ha! You ain't seen nothing yet, boy! In case you have missed the point, this has nothing to do with playing badly and everything to do with your birthright. 'Once A Blue, Always A blue' - long time ago, wasn't it? Believe me, we all remember (it's embedded across our foreheads!)

On the off chance that Newcastle Disunited tempt you up to their heathen outpost in the wilds of Tyneside here's a recent quote from Sir Bobby Robson, 'I've used more water than Red Adair'. Wayne, that means he's putting out fires all over the place (Sorry, I'm not going to explain) - and he's going to get the elbow (aged 279) at the end of the season anyway. Also, did you know that Newcastle were propping up the old 2nd Division some 12 or so years ago and have not won anything since Stanley Matthews scraped the first signs of bum fluff off his chin around 1837. Not only will you be playing with teammates who appear to hate each other with a passion, you'll be playing in front of supporters who are even more inbred than their Old Trafford counterparts. They even boo their own players when they?re playing for England. In the depths of winter they wear flimsy t-shirts to show off their big fat, hairy arms, drink gallons of Brown Ale, spit on the pavement and don't shave for weeks on end ? and that's just the women.

Wayne, so tell me - how bad is it playing for the Blues?

Rob Hamilton