[TomClare]

“Nostalgia might dwell on things past, but it makes them seem as next-door neighbours, rather than visitors from a distant land. There's much to be said for it. And the wondrous quality of nostalgia is that it is unchallengeable - like beauty - it rests in the eye of the beholder!”



I find that phrase such a wonderful statement. As we grow older, we do become more and more nostalgic. It is a fact of life. I make no bones about it, readily admitting that as far as football and Manchester United are concerned, I do certainly yearn for things past. Whenever I return to Old Trafford, I return to the seat of my sentimentality, and all my nostalgia comes flooding back. Old Trafford has played such a huge part in my life, as it has and still does, with thousands of supporters just like me. Ordinary, every day Joes, who have a love of the game of football, and a deep, intrinsic love of Manchester United Football Club. Yes, I did say Football Club.

Unfortunately, television, and certainly the advent of the Premiership and the monies that Sky television has poured obscenely into football, have slowly but surely destroyed a way of life. In 1992, the Football Association got into bed with the Premier League. Not for the good of the beautiful game mind you, but as an underhand blow to the Football League, and under the guise of supposedly enhancing the prospects of the England team at International level. Lurking in the background like Fagin looking for victims for the ‘Artful Dodger’ was an almost bankrupt satellite television company. They dangled the bait, and like a couple of starving piranhas, both the Association and the Premiership gorged on what was on offer. Football was never the same again – and sadly, in my opinion, never ever will be.

My love and affection for the game was stimulated by my Grandfather. He was around when Newton Heath changed their name to Manchester United. He saw United win their first ever title in 1908, their first F.A. Cup in 1909, and then the title again in 1911. From 1911 onwards, he had to wait some 37 years, enduring some really harsh times, during which the club was relegated several times, almost descended into the Third Division, and struggled so much financially that they almost went bust, before he saw them taste real success again.

As a young boy, he would take me into his parlour, and we would sit in his wooden rocking chair in front of the old coal fire. Myself sat on his knee, and him with a pot of strong tea in one hand, and his arm circled around my waist as the firelight reflected onto the walls, casting out our long shadows. He would relate to me the history of the Club. His eyes sparkled, just like stars on a cold, clear, dark night, as he spoke so passionately about the thing he loved and revered so much – Manchester United Football Club. He would regale me about Bank Street, Ernie Magnall, the Davies family, Duckworth, Roberts and Bell. He told me of the scandal that brought players over from Manchester City and sounded the arrival of the legendary Billy Meredith at United. He spoke of Harold Halse, the Turnbull brothers, and wee Georgie Wall. “That was some team” he would tell me. He told me about the way that the P.F.A. was formed and founded, the move from Bank Street to Old Trafford in 1910, the mystery surrounding “Knocker” West, and how the players went off to France and the Somme during World War 1, and how many of them never returned home again.

The lean times after World War 1 were explained and he told me about Jackie Mew, Jackie Silcock, “Clarrie” Hilditch, Neil McBain, big Frank Barson, and then about his all time favourite player, Joe Spence. I can still hear him shouting “Give it to Joe!” as he imitated the crowd at Old Trafford on a Saturday afternoon. He enthused about James Gibson taking over a sinking ship, and how he stopped it from floundering on the rocks, and set it in calm seas once again. He told me about the part that dear old Walter Crikmer and Louis Rocca played just before World War II, and how just after it, they were instrumental in bringing Sir Matt on board – and all the time he that would talk to me, my eyes would be opened wide in awe. Whenever he had finished, my reply to him would always be; “tell me again, Grandad!” He never ever refused.

I recall those days emotionally during my quiet times, and I recall that he instilled into me that football was not all about winning. “You have to be able to lose to understand how to win” was one of his stock phrases. He was scrupulously fair, and he taught me to respect opposing teams and their achievements. Making friends in the game was so important to him, as was the way that football was played. He didn’t mind losing as long as players had given their all – if United were second best on the day, but they had played the way the game was meant to be played, and had given of their best – he was happy. The Club and the way it conducted matters was also important to him. He adored what Sir Matt and Jimmy brought into the Club, and the foundations that they laid. He was so proud of what they achieved and where they were going as a Club. On the Sunday after Munich, we wept together at Mass for those seven players, the journalists, passengers and crew, that were already lost, and for those that still lay broken in the hospital in Munch, and we rejoiced for those that had survived.

He had great time for Harold Hardman, the then Chairman, and always told me that the Club was in good hands as long as we had people like him and Sir matt at the helm. He believed passionately that the Club would rise again, and was so delighted just five years later when they won the F.A. Cup after beating Leicester City at Wembley. In 1965 he was ecstatic that the Club had won the Championship again, and he eulogized over young George Best, Denis Law and Bobby Charlton. But he reckoned that without the solidity of Bill Foulkes, and the guile and craft of Pat Crerand, United would never have got across the finishing line.

Sadly, Grandad was never to see his dream of United conquering Europe fulfilled, for he passed away in October of 1966 and there was a big void left in my life. We had loved the game, loved United, and had laughed together when they won, and despaired when they lost. We had both felt part of “the family”, felt that we belonged, felt part of the everyday business of the Club. The directors, players, management, and staff, had a close affinity with the fans and the community, and there was a feel good factor all around – we all felt what we were – Manchester United, and were all so proud of it. Nothing, and nobody was bigger than the Club. When United bled, we all bled. This carried on into the Seventies and Eighties, when we were all there through the lean times, but we still laughed and cried, sang, and were still United.

Football grounds really are the vaults of our memories, and whenever I return to Old Trafford these days, as I sit there, the images of my past return so readily, then fade and reassemble like some giant kaleidoscope. I often sit and wonder if the present modern day fan will ever feel what I feel? How will they pass on their nostalgia on to their grandchildren? How will the likes of Martin Edwards, Peter Kenyon, David Gill, and the Glazers be remembered? One thing I can say for certain, is that they will never be remembered with same reverence as the Davies and Gibson families, nor in the same light as the likes of Louis Rocca and dear old Walter Crikmer.

I do yearn for things past – the old ‘Stretty End, the Stretford and Scoreboard Paddocks. The times when Old Trafford was filled to the rafters with such a happy raucous band of supporters who roared the lads on in hail, rain, and snow. Were happy to go to Aberdeen, Plymouth, Workington, Carlisle, Hartlepool, on a cold, wet day or night. It’s a far cry from then to what we see inside Old Trafford today. An atmosphere so sanitized that you could fall asleep in it and not realize that you were actually at a football match! How many of those fans today really know anything about Manchester United and its history? One thing is for certain, and that is to messrs Gill, Humby, and the Three Stooges, the nostalgia mentioned herein will mean absolutely nothing at all to them. For them and many, many more of their ilk, football didn’t begin until 1992. For all their money, they still could not put a price on our nostalgia and memories, nor will they ever understand where those deep feelings emanate from. These people will never get it through their heads nor see the disenchantment that they and their like have brought to our clubs and to the game.

The game is so out of date and out of touch with the fans, that the situation is becoming dangerous. The television people with their intrusive cameras have taken away a lot of the romance that used to be in the game of football. It has stopped people elaborating on past events and it is like a death to the imagination. As I see it, the future generations will never be able to wax lyrical or nostalgically about the game to their grandchildren, as my Grandfather did with me all those years ago. The people in the corridors of power should remember where the game came from. They have changed it all so dramatically during this past fifteen years, and more than at any time during its history. Greed and avariciousness is the order of the day, and owners, directors, players, managers, agents etc are all ravenously plucking the goose that lays the golden egg. It will not live forever. When it dies, the predators and scavengers will disappear just as fast as when they arrived, and then the problem will be how to rehouse and reshape the game, whilst remembering to whom it really belongs. Those of us who grew up on the terraces had it by right – the big question is, will it ever be given back to us by design?

[GrodZilla]

Fantastic post and I hope that everyone reads it...

[-re-]

A great read. Thanks for sharing Tom.

[SirManchester]

So how is it that when I talk about the capitalization of football, and about brand name comspiracies, nobody applauds?

Just kidding, great read. And on a similar note, I watched the United history dvd again last night, and everytime it fills me with more and more pride. It's so full of history from the days of Newton Heath to that first title winning team to Outcasts FC, to the terrible 30's to our first FA Cup win, to Busby's first great team, to his babes, to his rebuilding of the club after tragedy, to the 70's and 80's which were difficult but our support was better than ever, and finally to Ferguson, Cantona and the treble. I just can't do it justice, but damnit I love Manchester United!

[sdotsom]

Its really hard to describe how I feel for United. It's a mix of love and obsession to be honest..I check this board and soccernet for news about the club before I even check the "real news". My uncle, who lived for some years in Salford, put me on to United in 1996, and I've pretty much followed since then. As I live in the states, its been a lot tougher to match the same emotions when a goal is scored that alot of you guys that see matches live or at the pub do. But I try...last semester when Rio put in the header against the Dippers I was screaming my head off at 10 in the morning here in STL after a drunken night before, so much so that the neighbors in my college apartment called the cops. the feelings for United really can't be described.

[mhtwins113]

Originally Posted by SirManchester

I just can't do it justice, but damnit I love Manchester United!

Almost as much as you hate capitalism?

[SirManchester]

Originally Posted by mhtwins113

Almost as much as you hate capitalism?

As much as I love fascism.

[Achtung]

Personally, while there is certainly a longing for the past, I prefer to look at the positives of the machine. Being able to watch matches almost anywhere in the world, getting to know players even if you can't talk to them outside OT, and having a real obsession for the team that rivals anything you'd find in Salford. I think that while we all loath some of the aspects of the game you discussed, perhaps they are necessary evils in the long-term development and maturity of football. What matters is the game, the passion the fans have for it, and its ability to bring us together even if we have little to nothing else in common. I don't know that I ever see that going away.

Kinda makes you wonder what kind of fuss was raised when professionalism, European matches, endorsements, and club sponsors were first introduced.

[xfactor857]

Originally Posted by Achtung

Personally, while there is certainly a longing for the past, I prefer to look at the positives of the machine. Being able to watch matches almost anywhere in the world, getting to know players even if you can't talk to them outside OT, and having a real obsession for the team that rivals anything you'd find in Salford. I think that while we all loath some of the aspects of the game you discussed, perhaps they are necessary evils in the long-term development and maturity of football. What matters is the game, the passion the fans have for it, and its ability to bring us together even if we have little to nothing else in common. I don't know that I ever see that going away.

Kinda makes you wonder what kind of fuss was raised when professionalism, European matches, endorsements, and club sponsors were first introduced.

Exactly. Whenever anything's popularity spirals out of control, it will inevitably "sell out".

[Numquam Moribimur]

Originally Posted by SirManchester

So how is it that when I talk about the capitalization of football, and about brand name comspiracies, nobody applauds?

Just kidding, great read. And on a similar note, I watched the United history dvd again last night, and everytime it fills me with more and more pride. It's so full of history from the days of Newton Heath to that first title winning team to Outcasts FC, to the terrible 30's to our first FA Cup win, to Busby's first great team, to his babes, to his rebuilding of the club after tragedy, to the 70's and 80's which were difficult but our support was better than ever, and finally to Ferguson, Cantona and the treble. I just can't do it justice, but damnit I love Manchester United!

we talked about this 2 weeks ago ...there is not one team in the world i would trade our history for ..not one !