FAN ARTICLES

Us and Them

By Liam Coulton :  23/04/2011 :  Comments (8) :

I?d been once before for an England game a long time ago. The first thing that strikes you is its location. It?s essentially sandwiched in a corridor of retail parks. Its size and matchday operation demands space modern stadiums use expertly to make your day a wallet-lightening experience.

The game was a unique one. Manchester United at home to non-league Crawley Town. I boarded the tram at Deansgate for the three-stop journey to Old Trafford tram stop. Once on the train, a theme for the day was set. That was simply the noise from the Crawley faithful who had made the journey north. It was noise that would last all day.

I arrived at Trafford Bar, the stop before my intended departure. Here I decided to disembark in order to have a slightly longer walk to the ground, I had time to kill. Crawley coaches lined the roads of Stretford just south of the Stadium. Flags, scarves and broad smiles spilled out of every watering hole. It was a timely reminder of the magic of a competition, much maligned in recent years...

I stopped for a pre-match pint in Stretford Men?s Social Club. I?m not from Stretford. Alas, the name of the pub wasn?t a rule: I was in. The crowd was a good mix of home and away supporters. This was a working men?s pub, complete with working men. Very few however would actually be attending the game today. It was the first sign of what would follow once I entered the stadium.

After a rather swift two pints, I left the turbo charged social club and headed down past the Trafford Bar toward my meeting point. It was here were I think a trip to Old Trafford becomes glaringly unique. The general crowd is far more family orientated than I?m accustomed to. A large majority of this crowd treat every game like a tourist attraction, as for many it is. It?s a cliché, but a fair one. The amount of cameras made me feel almost celebrity like as I dodged past click after click.

It was somewhat fitting that I was picking up a season ticket in order to gain entry. Manchester United is very proud of the sheer amount of season ticket holders it has. The waiting list to get one is much talked about. It begs the question how many people like me, had picked up someone's ticket today?

The ground is what you?d expect from a large, generally modern stadium. There are no toilet queues and the beer and hotdog operation is military. The atmosphere in the ?belly? of the stadium was muted. The most noise coming from camera clicks that continued to rain down.

Not wanting to miss the players' entrance, I made my way to my seat. I had a small lad in front of me with his granddad. Free seats either side of me, and three twats behind me. Harsh? Probably... More on them later.

Once settled, I was blown away by the noise of the Crawley fans. This was without question their cup final, and they treated it as such. The array of songs more than matched the extensive songbook United fans pride themselves on. They matched United on the pitch too. Not that any one around me noticed. Far too busy in idle conversation to even engage in what was an intriguing cup tie. Wes Brown's opener was met with arrogant applause as the Crawley fans continued to dominate the off-pitch battle. You see the problem here is United expect to win every game they play. And most of the time they do just that.

Firstly there are now a generation of fans that have never experienced genuine failure. The have racked stacked and packed trophies for the last 20 years. The lads behind me have never seen a victory through adversity. Never felt the pain of a relegation struggle. The longest they?ve gone without a trophy is 18 months I?d guess. It?s hardly surprising the lack of respect they afforded a Crawley team out-performing itself. Ultimately, the width of a crossbar separated two teams 93 league places apart. Incredible.

I couldn?t help sitting there thinking of the 8-year-old sat in front of me. He should be staring to that away end with envy; I was. He?ll never experience football the way they will. The majority of the home crowd reeks of middle class faux enthusiasm. It?s a day out, and a sterile one at that. They see their team win a lot, but they?ll never feel attached to the ground they sit in, or the replica shirt they queue to buy. They can have all the trophies in the world, but they don?t have a football team like I have.

I don?t doubt that, once upon a time, United had what most other teams have. That magic that ensures eleven men you?ve never met can make or break your weekend. A stadium that feels like a home. Like-minded supporters who share your passion. We all share something, and we know we do. We support our club in different ways, but we share something. I?m not sure what, we just do.

When did United lose that? When did they become so big that the men in Stretford men?s social club stopped going to the game? When did they make the cost of going to the game prohibitive to the people who care most?

I left Old Trafford proud of whom I support and disappointed Crawley didn?t get the draw their fans and players richly deserved.

I?ve had some devastating moments at Goodison Park. Last-minute sucker punches. Teams who have come and outclassed us. I?ve had some highs too. Derby victories, battling performances and winning when everything says we have no right to. I even cried when we beat the drop in 1997.

When Goodison is bouncing, it rocks ? literally. When we feel aggrieved, the aggression scorches the air. The elation of a vital winner sparks moments so genuine you wish you could bottle it.

I long for the trophies United have. But give me all those trophies and Old Trafford or Goodison Park under the lights when our backs are against the wall and there?s only one winner. We have something they are never getting back and maybe never had.

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