Special Guest PNE Fan Hanna (@Hannamayj)

DIRECTIONS (Assuming no Red has ever been further north than Bolton before) :

Go north up the M6 for 30 miles and exit at the Tickled Trout, or Junction 31 to non-Prestonians (we had a town meeting to decide the naming of all major junctions. Probably. Either way, that’s a thing) and marvel at yet another fallen industrial giant:  Preston.

FACTS:

The last time you came to Deepdale (our theatre of dreams) was a long time before I was born but not long ago enough that it’s legend. 1972. Someone won. Nobody kept count.

Preston (The Lilywhites, PNE, Whites, Invincibles) play the former champions of the world almost exactly one year on from the passing of club leg-end Sir Tom Finney. Go check out “The Splash” statue dedicated to the phantom winger outside the stadium. No really, it’s pretty cool.

No I don’t work for the Preston tourist board but we don’t get many visitors, not even for Europe’s largest bus station…

There’s a disappointing lack of Pom Bears in both the club shop and stadium bars. I’ve had words but they fall on deaf ears. Sorry.

We hate Blackpool.

We will sing ‘Premier League, you’re having a laugh!’ Even if we’re losing.

TEAM:

PNE tend to play a traditional 10 outfield players and one goalkeeper.

Manager Simon Grayson (formally of Leeds United for some old-school, long-winded rivalry, but still a better manager than Sir Alex Ferguson’s sperm) will probably start with a 3-4-1-2 of Stuckmann; Super Tom Clarke, Huntington, Wright; Wiseman, Welsh, Kilkenny, Laird; Super Paul ‘Gally’ Gallagher; Super Kevin Davies, Super Joe(y) Garner.

A return to form for Preston in all February fixtures after a drop in Jan means ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF LIFE but will probably be used by Sky pundits to patronise the shite out of ‘lower-league opposition’.

PREDICTION:

Garner’s gonna score a hat-trick and celebrate with his chicken dance, Gally will get a brace from 2 free-kicks and SKD will either end a player’s career (probably Smalling) or score the world’s worst dink to bring his total career goals tally to 151 or total career red cards to 50,000.

No midfield or defensive play is allowed in League One stadiums.

Garner will be knighted and given freedom of the city of Preston (yes, we’re a city now).

David Moyes will tip up to say ‘hi’ to both of his old clubs before returning to certain sunshine and glory in Spain. Miss you Moyesy. Not you, us.

SUMMARY:

A game of association football in the fifth round of the FA Cup will be played in a 23,400 seater stadium and either a “Giant Killing” will occur and Mark Lawrenson will gush for the next 20 years about THE MAJIK OF THE CUP or the third place team in the Premier League will beat the fourth placed team in League One. Either will get stuffed in the next round. Make U Think.

I only wrote this to annoy McGhee.

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Benno (@Benglorious)

I found out today that the team we’re playing today isn’t even in the same league as United today.  Not gonna lie, my world has been shaken by the revelation that football even exists outside the Premiership League.  Pressed On are the opponents, and United are having to travel an unascertained distance to their stadium, Deed Poll.  They should probably change that.

Mum just told me that the game tonight isn’t part of the Premiership League either, and NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S REAL ANY MORE.  Why can’t it just be the same two teams every week, jumpers for goalposts, next goal wins, “no, you go in goal”, “no goal-hanging”, “let me go in goal now cos I’m knackered”, “that’s a bad hack”, “rush goalie, innit” instead of all this ultra-competitive, eighty games a season, “your team’s the worst”, “no, your team’s the worst”, “yeah, but our strikeman’s the best”, “no, our strikeman’s the best” professional football?  I guess we’ll never know.

Prediction:  Vangle to step it up tonight and stop messing around.  Rooney up top with Falcao and Mata in the hole with support from Herrera and Di Maria.  Once we’re five goals up, then and only then will Fellaini and Wilson come on to give Men Of The Match Mata and Ander a well-earned standing ovation.  1-0 Preston.

Jonny texted me to say he was more than happy to come by and tell me his three favourite things in the whole world.  I told him I was busy:

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Tom (@tom_mcghee)

Remember when Preston stormed off Never Mind the Buzzcocks? Bet they don’t mention that. Narrative. I read Brett’s first.

Hanna thinks Steve Martin is Leslie Nielsen.

Prediction: If the Martin Keown angle plays out, who knows? Twelfty 6 to United, Joey Garner to score 8 goals and inspire the home fans to write, direct and perform their own updated version of Jesus Christ Superstar meets West Side Story. For reasons that are unclear.

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Brett (@bifurcated_mufc)

If there’s one thing this website has taught us over the years, it’s to never trust a team with a very specific geographical, most likely racist, agenda. It’s also taught us that having a chat when you’ve finished your tea doesn’t make you an after-dinner speaker, but it’s still okay to put it on your c.v.

I’ve picked up from my friends at the football writers guild recently that the use of the word narrative, wherever possible, becomes a prominent narrative when providing a season’s narrative and should be used wherever possible, narratively speaking (and it also makes you popular with the laydeez, cos it makes you look all interlectural like), and that that narrative tends to line-up in a classic order, disorder, order restored formation; in fact my journo bros sometimes see ‘order, disorder, order restored’, and whisper “that’s classic narrative” to themselves.  In this particular instance the means of re-ordering the disorder, created by Vangle’s insistance on winning without playing nicely, like the Ferg we don’t deserve, will take the form of exacting revenge for a list of modern day football misdemeanours the length of my arm:

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1. PNE invented David Moyes the manager irl.
2. PNE’s ex-England International Kevin Davies lit a bonfire on the future (T-ClevZ).
3. PNE’s Sylvan Blake has given an online money lending site permission to use his name for their underhand marketing campaign.

I have a very long body, okay. It’s just perspective. It’s a very short list. ‘Length of my arm’. Oh, forgeddit.

The most exciting thing about this game is it’s on the beeb! And that’s exciting cos that means I don’t have to get out of bed at all today, except to stick my foot through the telly when Martin Keown. Actually, might just stick my foot through the telly now to save me having me to get out of bed to do it when the coverage starts, then I really can stay in bed all day like the Nietzsche times Bear Grylls maverick squared you all adore.

Prediction: The stylist who sticks Martin Keown’s head in the tumble dryer before he’s allowed out of his cell to leave it in there for much longer than the usual cos someone has delivered them a brown envelope stuffed full of Bifurcated’s staff tips. Hopefully, they accept, “WTF!! That doesn’t even make any sense … give it up you pricks”, “Punch yourself and your friends in the faces before I do, if I ever find you”, “Actually, just kill yourselves to death”, as suitable bungs. 2-3 United.

Benno (@Benglorious):

I’m not going to lie, it’s been a couple of emotionally-charged weeks in the Glorious household.  I imagine United’s transfer shenanigans have also left both of you not knowing whether to dance with joy or sob your eyes out.  Not just tears but proper chest-heaving cries and loads of snot running into your mouth tasting like hot, salty yoghurt.

He’s gone.

Two simple words, yet they cut deeper than two swords made out of even sharper swords.  This is a man who grew up in the family United.  A young boy at the biggest club in the land;  a teenager at the biggest club in the land; and finally a man at the biggest club in the land.  There were moments of his that got you out of your seat, screaming his name.  Conversely, there were moments that had you putting your hands on your head, moaning his name.  Deep down, we all knew that he wasn’t “United quality” and that he’d always be fighting for his place in the first team, but it never mattered.  His hard work, his skill-set, his dedication and his unparallelled humility made him arguably the biggest fan favourite since Giggs ripped off his shirt against Arsenal, which caused even Richard Keys to cry out in shock at his hirsuteness.

We love you and we always will.  All the best at Villa, Tom.

Apparently, we’re playing Queen’s Park Rangers next which should be a walkover for us.  In my opinion, park rangers aren’t ever going to be able to compete with professional footballers, regardless of who they work for –  they’re basically just power hungry gardeners with delusions of grandeur.  Players to watch out for include club legend Les Ferdinand; the White Messi, Bobby Zamora (is he white?) and Joey Barton a.k.a. the English Socrates (not the footballer, the other one.  Actually, not him either.  He’s more like if Piers Morgan and Ralph Wiggum had a kid and the kid that their kid bullied is Joey).

Prediction:  With so many new signings I have no idea who’s going to play, where they’re going to play, why they’re going to play or even what they’re going to play.  The hipstormation this week is anyone’s guess except Vangle’s, I suppose, but even he must be looking at his vast collection of shiny new players and wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with them.  Now that Welbz has gone (note to self: find out if there’s a sad song that laments a boy called ‘Danny’ and if not, write one) I reckon that new lad with the flowing locks will get a start up front due to his incredible ability in the air, although Atreyu must be gutted that his mate’s gone.  He’ll bag two on debut, after being set up for both by Rooney after some sick (“street” “sick”, not “hugging the toilet, wishing you were dead” “sick”) build-up play from Angie Diana Mary and Robin.  That fat kid from Southampton will score after half-time from his position at left-back or left wing-back or left-side-of-a-back-three or lef…. Nah, he won’t score.  Instead, Mata will with a sublime free-kick right at the death to kill off all resistance from the Super ‘oops.  1-0 QPR.

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Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

After witnessing first-hand (AT THE GAME) the opening day defeat to Swansea and then sitting through the Burnley debacle (I watched that on the telly. I won’t keep explaining how I watched them it’s just I haven’t really got a lot to say at the minute so this is kinda stalling), I think we all agreed that changes needed to be made. And that Anderson should be sent to live on the moon to eat all the moon cheese*.

That didn’t happen – he replaced Di Maria in a game. In real life – but I did see some small bits of news about some of our other business; whole host of deadwood (so dead it gives deadwood a bad name. And it’s already called deadwood) rather unceremoniously shipped out the door to be replaced by genuine proven talent or very promising potential. Any immediate concerns I may have had about how this will work were allayed by remembering that our manager isn’t David Moyes. It might also be worth noting that I’ve paid zero attention to this Welbz nonsense so if you see me predicting him to score just let it go.

So, The Queen’s own Park Rangers. The chance to see if Redknapp is further along on his path to becoming Pizza the Hutt (Spaceballs. You’re too young) and whether Rio can still do anything aside from promote those caps with a number on them….I want to say 8? That aside, we’ll only care who they are if we lose so I’m not getting into it. Suffice to say it’d be nice if Joey had a mare and got attacked by a tiger. That only he could see.

[ROUSING CALL TO ARMS SPEECH TO BE ADDED LATER]

I know its been poor but its been that kind of start – by rights we should destroy QPR until they are defeated by the number of goals we’ve scored. Its got to start happening sooner or later so I’m going for a convincing 3-0, Danny getting his now perfunctory  brace and Falcao a 30yard screamer which he dedicates to the memory of Tom Cleverley.

*This is actually a thing; the moon is getting larger due to science – Ando, with is ability to eat absolutely anything, is being touted as the humane solution. This is why he wasn’t sold – NASA are interested.

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Brett:

Ben (Benglorious):

Second game of the season today and my username and password for this site still haven’t been revoked.  In light of this, I’ve decided that I’m going to up my game in the preview stakes and finally put my name on the Top Red map.  Not today, though.

After last week’s 1-0 victory over Swansea, Vangle has started exactly as the fans wanted him to.  I was actually at Old Trafford for the game, and my only quibble with the performance was that my view was obstructed for most of the ninety minutes so all I saw was Rooney’s goal.  My second quibble is about the noise at the stadium: I paid good money for my ticket, so is it too much to ask for the other seventy-five thousand match-goers to just sit quietly for an hour and a half and just enjoy the spectacle in front of them as I wished to?  I hope this is one of the next issues to address on Vangle’s list.

Sunderland are the destination today, and they’d better not concede any penalties as we have a ruthless track record against the Black Cats.  In fact, my window cleaner reckons that out of the 263 penalties United have taken against Sunderland over the last three seasons, we’ve only missed one and that was because Anderson had eaten the ball after extra time due to him not being able to last more than ninety minutes without eating.  What I find most remarkable about this is that I don’t have a window cleaner and after his visit I also don’t have a telly anymore.

Sunderlands to watch out for today are ex-alumni Wes Brown and John O’Shea as they’re both awesome and pretty much the only names I recognise in their squad.  United on the other hand will have their new signing, the Argentine Mark Rogers, playing at some position in the back two/three/four/five (delete as to your own interpretation of the hipstormation).  Apparently, he’s famous for getting boners when he clears the ball.  While this sounds a bit odd, I’d imagine this is actually a pretty good tactic to employ against those strikers that love sticking their arse in whilst they’re shielding the ball.

[Phone rings: “Hello? ……  Yes, Mum, I know his name’s not Mark Rogers ……  Yes, Mum, I know it’s not ‘boners’  ……  Well I thought it was funny  ……  ……  ……  ……  What do you mean ‘no work permit’?  ……  ……  But that’s stupid; United are a MASSIVE company type thing, why would they sign a player who can’t  …… Woodward? Say no more.  Oh, while I’ve got you: any information on our starting lineup?  ……  ……  ……  ……  ……  Injured?  ……  ALL OF THEM?!  ……  Well, who  ……  Cleverley AND Fellaini?!?!  Oh, FFS.  ……  It stands for ‘for fu  ……  Why did you ask me then?!  ……  I don’t know why I abbreviated it to you, it’s a thing that the kids are doing  ……  ……  ……  Yeah, you only get 140 characters  ……  Yes, characters are letters, Mum  ……  I DON’T KNOW –  THEY’RE JUST CALLED ‘CHARACTERS’  ……  Sorry  ……  ……  ……  ……  ……  ……  Welbz?  For reals?  ……  *sighs* It means ‘really’ ……  Yes, it’s another young thing  ……  Yes, Mother, I’m aware of how old I am; stop changing the subject.  Are they really selling him or is this more media rubbish?  ……  ……  Just because a journalist says something it does not make it fact  ……  …… This may shock you, but newspapers aren’t free  ……  Yes, okay, but the Parish Newsletter is not a national publication, is it?  ……  BUT THAT’S BECAUSE YOU SEND IT TO AUNTY GLORIA!  ……  Look, I’ve got enough filler now to make this look better/longer so I’m going.  Love you.”]

Prediction:  Danny will prove all the haters/lovers wrong/right today by banging in six goals from 8 shots in the warm-up.  During the game, Robin and Rooney will reignite their partnership with a goal each before halftime, with both being subbed off at the break and only being replaced by Welbz.  He will play both their games as well as his own and end up scoring four:  two headers set up by himself from incisive crosses, one calm finish after a lovely flicked through-ball from himself and the fourth coming after some lovely work down the left from himself before he reacts quickest to bang his own cross-come-shot into the roof of the net.  1-0 Sunderland.

Brett:

*Engaged tone*

Benno (@Benglorious):

The Bobbins:  A Tale of Trying

King Alexander had ruled Traffordonia for nearly thirty years.  He was much respected by his enemies and beloved by his people because during his reign the kingdom had flourished, and was the envy of the whole world.  Alexander knew that his time as king was coming to an end and, with no heirs, had been thinking long and hard about who should replace him upon his retirement.  After he’d announced that he would be giving up the throne, all the kingdom was rife with speculation as to who the new king would be.  A lot of Alexander’s loyal subjects agreed that Joséph of the White Royal family would be ideal, but others pointed to his arrogance and the fact that he had previously been at war with Traffordonia as general of the humourless Chelsians.

Others pointed across the sea at Dortmundana, where the canny Jürgen had led his people through a triumphant uprising against their sworn enemies, the Bayernets.  Jürgen admitted to being flattered at all the interest in him succeeding King Alexander, but his unwavering loyalty to his people would prevent him from leaving them to accept the crown.

In the end, it was a man called David whom King Alexander summoned to his palace one afternoon to bestow the kingdom of Traffordonia upon him.  David was the mayor of a place called Toffeetown.  Toffeetown was a nice place to live, even though it wasn’t the town it used to be.  The people loved David, and he them.  Under his rule, Toffeetown was neither a success nor a failure and the community accepted this period of benevolence with their natural good humour.

Alexander told his people that David was the man he had chosen to succeed him, and that they should love and obey David as they loved and obeyed their current king.  David was known to the kingdom, and was respected as a shrewd tactitian because of  the various skirmishes that had taken place between Toffeetown and Traffordonia.  There was no ill will towards Toffeetown despite this, as both sets of people had a common enemy: the evil Pudlians.  They were reviled due to their underhand tactics, lack of morals and the disgusting behaviour of their famous spearhead, Louis the Tooth.

David’s first act as king was to bring his fiercest warrior, Mary-Ann, from Toffeetown to bolster his troops.  Mary-Ann was a pillar of Toffetown’s army, as strong as a tree, but many wondered where this chesty warrior would fit in with the army Alexander had left behind.  All doubts were soon dispelled as David’s first battle ended with a treasure-filled victory over the Wigs, followed by an even more comfortable defeat of the Swans of the Sea.  The people relaxed, seemingly secure in the knowledge that Alexander had appointed a worthy successor, one who would maintain their proud traditions.

The Traffordonian’s evil rivals, the Pudlians, soon put the dampeners on the feeling of joy felt throughout the kingdom as they swept aside David’s men.  This was followed by yet another defeat, this time to the Blue Moon clan who lived just across the border.  Spirits were raised again for a short time after a rout against the Levers across the sea, but this was short-lived after back to back losses against Toffeetown and Magpie Castle, both coming on home territory.

A poor defeat to the Sons of Derland ruined the chance of capturing any silverware, and this was followed by an embarrassing loss to the Chelsians, led by none other than Joséph who had switched allegiances from the White Royals after being overlooked for the kingship.  Joséph must have felt some sympathy for David, as shortly afterwards he allowed one of his finest soldiers, John the Killer, to join the Traffordonian army.

This didn’t give the nation the fillip everyone was expecting.  A crushing loss to the wildmen of Stokington and a dour stalemate with the vampires of Craven Cottage preceded a toothless defeat to the lowly Olympians on David’s continental crusade.  Mutterings of his unworthiness for the crown were starting to be heard in various corners of the land, which started to gain volume and momentum after yet another defeat to the Pudlians.  Some of David’s subjects started to call publicly for his head, but he managed to keep the wolf from the door by masterminding a revenge victory over the Olympians to continue his crusade.

John the Killer rallied the troops to claim a decisive and much needed win over the Villains of Aston, but the next opponents would not be so easy to dominate.  The Bayernets had one of the strongest and fiercest armies in the world, and now they stood in David’s way.  A tense first battle saw no quarter given and both sides left with honour intact.  The second battle started well for the Traffordonians, with ageing stalwart Pat Everhard taking the fight to the Bayernets and catching them off-guard.  However, this only angered the Bayernets and they swiftly countered before sending David’s men home, their campaign finished.

Rumours of David’s removal as king were now being touted by even the most loyal of his subjects, and it came as no surprise that he was overthrown after his next defeat, ironically to the people who’d once loved him:  Toffeetown.  Ryan Broslayer was appointed as steward of Traffordonia until such time as a new king could be found to resurrect the crumbling kingdom and restore its former glories.

In light of Traffordonia’s failures under David’s rule, both the Pudlians and the Blue Moon clan were vying for control of the kingdom.  Both were longstanding rivals of Traffordonia but had been kept well subdued, for the most part, by Alexander’s dominance during his reign.  He’d actually claimed the kingdom from the Pudlians many, many years ago and had instilled in his subjects the need to never let the evil Pudlians rule again.  With this in mind, the Traffordonians were secretly supporting the Blue Moon clan in any way they could, barring treasonous acts.

For a long time it seemed that the Pudlians, marshalled by their talisman Stee-Gee, would be the ones to claim total victory.  This would lead to a repeat of the dark days, spoken of by elders in hushed tones.  However, calamity struck Stee-Gee on the battlefield as he slipped at a crucial moment, allowing the Chelsians to administer a telling defeat to the evil Pudlians, crushing their hopes and allowing the Blue Moon clan to swoop in and take the crown.  The Traffordians grudgingly accepted the lesser of two evils as their betters, and swore fealty to the Blue Moon clan as their rightful rulers for the coming year.

Ryan Broslayer’s tenure as steward came to an end after the Blue Moon clan’s ultimate victory.  The highly-decorated Louis Vangelis took over the reins in Ryan’s stead, but kept him on as his right-hand man.  What happened after that?  Well, that’s a story for another time.  However, Traffordonians know deep in their hearts that the day will come when it is they who will be ruling once more, the balance will be restored and all will be right with the world.

The End

Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

So it’s all over; another roller-coaster ride of thrills and excitement, culminating in a ‘down to the last day’ scenario and one more title. Oh UNITED? Why didn’t you say….

Got to be honest, I’ve already repressed most of this season (expecting it to come back to me in senility and those lonely nights in the home circa 2040) and as such, the review is going to be somewhat slap-dash; for the regular readers (who am I kidding? ‘Reader’. And thanks Dad) I know this lack of professionalism will shock and dismay you but hey, if fellas earning £200000+ a week can do it…

August 2013: Sir Alex who? A 4-1 drubbing of Mighty Swansea and a 0-0 draw againts the all-consuming genius that is Mourinho?! Business as usual then lads.

N.B If we were Liverpool, we’d’ve started singing ‘We’re going to win the league’ about now.

September 2013: Little bit of a speed-bump September; alright we got hammered by City, but it wasn’t 6-1 and yes, we did also lose to Liverpool but these things happened in the Fergie era – it’s a team in transition! We beat Palace for chrissakes. The West Brom thing was probably just a one-off freak result. And just look at us go in Europe!

October 2013: See? Beating Sunderland and Stoke is nothing to be sniffed at (See also: draws against European heavy-hitters Shakhtar & Real Sociedad).

November 2013:  Victories against Fulham and league-leaders Arsenal put us right back in the hunt and Cardiff away is never easy. Megalolz at Fellaini in Europe – what a signing he’s turning out to be – but 5 against Leverkusen away is just the tonic we need. Now we’ll turn the corner.

December 2013: Four wins and a draw. Yes, defeats at home to both Everton and Newcastle do seem to be a negative but Dave is really trying and I’m sure we’re just not seeing his vision. Buy a gun just in case.

January 2014: Oh THAT Sir Alex. Sweet Jesus. Still, take that Wales. Oh wait. Beginning to think David isn’t the tactical super-genius we thought.

February 2014: Set new world record for number of crosses. Take this as a positive. And if you ignore the defeat to Stoke and the draw against Fulham, not a bad month – I mean, we drew with 4th place winners Arsenal. That Olympiakos thing was just West Brom all over again. Oil gun on daily basis now.

March 2014: Magnificent vengeance against the mighty West Brom, and we continue to lure Liverpool & City into thinking we’re not even trying to win the league and really stick it to Villa who, once again, are challenging for worst thing ever. What goes around comes around as Olympiakos get their just desserts at OT and we make the last eight.

April 2014: Get knocked out – comprehensively – by Bayern; I don’t think its hyperbole to say it was the biggest shock since sliced bread. However, now we’re rid of the tiresome distraction that is CL, starting to think Moyes is leaving it a bit late to make that final charge – mathematically, it seems impossible.  In other news, Moyes sacked. Hand my gun into police – won’t be needing it now. Relative unknown Ryan Giggs made interim boss, smiles all across the land.

May 2014: Prepared suicide note in event of Liverpool win. Turned it into party invite where Steven Gerrard’s slip is shown on continuous loop. Season ends with Vidic and Rio leaving (I knew Vidic was going when I saw him sign that Milan contract), hope ensuing vacuum sucks both Cleverley and Young to a parallel world where they aren’t subjected to constant ridicule. Seems unlikely. Louis Van Gaal touted as next boss but at the time of writing, no official confirmation. Thousands of Vines though. So that’s good.

Its quite probable that having read this review, you might’ve noticed some glaring omissions – there’s no mention of the league cup for instance – but this is because I don’t believe in it; either way, feel free to not bring any of them to my attention. Its also highly probable that if you started reading this, you possibly – and justifiably – gave up way before now. If so, you’ve gone up in my estimation.

About the author:

Invented Glass, starred in Miss Saigon for 24 consecutive years.

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Abhay (Ab5Y) :

The unholy has been avoided. Liverpool will go another season without adding to their eighteen league crowns. While this may bring some amount of solace to Man United fans (especially the ones of a certain vintage who have seen the Merseyside team truly dominate English football), it does scarce to ease the pain of a season which to date is the worst United have had to endure in the Premier League era.

What does ease the pain, however, is the tangible hope that the 2013/14 season will go down as a blip rather than a turning point in the history of Manchester United FC. Strong rumours of the impending arrival of Louis van Gaal mean that the fans, and a fair portion of the players (not least a certain horse placenta connoisseur) remain optimistic of returning to their rightful place at the helm of the league table in the coming season. Along with that, there is also the indication that United are keen on buying football players actually worthy of playing for Manchester United, especially in the center of midfield. This is certainly heartening news for those who aren’t entirely pleased with Michael Carrick, Tom Cleverley, Marouane Fellaini and the soon to be former Manchester United player/personal entertainer and jester to Alex Ferguson, Anderson.

If and when van Gaal takes charge of this Manchester United squad, one can expect a throwback to the heady days of 90s attacking and flair football. Old Trafford hasn’t seen such football, featuring gay abandonment, consistently since Vincent del Bosque’s Real Madrid were the victors in a clash between tactical astuteness and “tactical anarchy”. Since then, Sir Alex Ferguson became decidedly more possession minded in the way he set out his playing elevens. It was a transformation that was largely accepted whilst the trophies kept rolling in. But with two trophyless years since 2011, the return of attacking football in its purest essence will be a welcome sight for those making the trip down Sir Matt Busby Way.

If the hopes of the reported 600 million people worldwide, who claim to support “Man U”, are realized, the 2014/15 season could see Manchester United and Liverpool compete for the title. But unlike the last time it happened (2008/09), this time promises to be the start of rivalry that could last more than just one season.

For starters, there seems to be no danger of Brendan Rodgers going off on a rant about how van Gaal has, or will doubtless have, the FA in his pocket. For the main course, Rodgers also seems to be hell bent on not wanting to exchange his best players for Gareth Barry. For dessert, Rodgers is just a good manager through and through, and not a ‘flawed genius’.

With Chelsea under Jose Mourinho looking set to buy a world class striker in the summer, and Arsenal and Manchester City also almost certain to strengthen in order to build on their numerous positives this season, the fight for the league will be might tougher next season than it has been these past eight months. If Tottenham finally manage to find a manager capable of getting the best out of an expensively assembled squad, and Everton continue their rise under Roberto Martinez, even getting top four will be a sizable challenge.

Yet, barring City, none of the teams in the PL have the same quality in their squad that Manchester United already possess. But while City have a treasure trove of world class players to call upon whenever a need arises, Liverpool have something far more powerful: the call of destiny. Whether one believes in such a thing or not, it is undeniable that Liverpool supporters and a large proportion of their players know and understand the rich history of their club. There is an aura about Anfield, the Liver bird, the kop, the Shankly gates, and everything that goes with that club, that, though dimmed in the past two and a half decades, can still turn LFC into a fearsome and dominating trophy machine. Only Manchester United’s own history and traditions can compare, and hence only United can stop the mayhem that Liverpool will create under Rodgers now that they have tasted blood.

Brett:

I did one for ROM on Vidic and then ran out of

Whoever the new Louis van Gaal is, I really hope they make Giggsy their number two. The Moyes toll taken on the players was visibly lifted and, well, it’s obvious why. Keeping Scholesy and Bicky Nutt involved in some capacity would again serve the new Louis van Gaal very well – whoever the board choose to charge with Louis van Gaaling us.

It’s been nice to be able to watch press conferences again. To be looking forward to the end of the season with excitement, not trepidation. To not have to defend the indefensible. To think that David Moyes can leave with a shred of dignity intact. Giggs that.

The way David Moyes’ United career played out in the mainstream media, effectively fuelled by Twitter ‘banter’ was really uncomfortable towards the end. No doubt he’ll come back to Old Trafford with another team in the future. Would be fitting to see him exact a bit of revenge.

The game itself, I thought, bristled with the expectation of the imminent new era.

Tony and Carrick most notably looked different somehow: more like themselves. Perhaps Cleverley, in a positional sense at least, aided that. Just saying something. I know nothing. Am never right. Nor do I want or profess to be. Even though this sounds like I’m doing the thing where I’m saying I am right. I’m not.

Giggsy summed it all up perfectly after the match in saying – nice to be able to quote your Louis van Gaal – only Dave has had a decent season; and that goes for everyone at the club.

We are pregnant with the future.

p.s A case for the new Louis van Gaal:

Ben (Benglorious):

It’s here at last.  The big one I’ve been waiting for.  It’s been over a week since I last glued my eyes to something of such importance and intensity.  In the meantime, I’ve had to settle for the non-match of a comfortable win against one of the other Uniteds (I forget which).  Even Mata bagging his first brace (as predicted by me for a different match entirely) wasn’t enough to take my mind off the aforementioned “big one”.  I’ve been like a child adventing (if that’s not a verb, I’m ruddy claiming it) my way towards Exmas: counting down the days, consoling myself each morning with one less sleep to worry about, constantly checking the date and eating a disgusting chocolate in lieu of breakfast.  Fibre broadband was well worth the wait.

There’s some football on tonight as well, or so the so-called “authorities” would have you believe.  Just to keep off their radar, I’ll go along with their sham and write a few bits about it.  United flew to Europe yesterday (that’s tomorrow if you’re reading this Monday just gone) for their match against their opponents at their opponent’s stadium in their opponent’s country.  This is the second leg of the match, which I assume is best of three sets.  The winner of this match goes on to some form of round-robin-winner-takes-all-next-goal-wins-can’t-tag-your-butcher-pistols-at-dawn-big-championship game.  Then they give the trophy to Barcelona.

Players to watch out for tonight include Juan Mata, who no doubt will get his fair share of camera time (why have we taken a player who can’t even play (not you, Clevz)?  No bloody wonder the club’s in so much debt); Bastian Schweinsteiger, who no doubt will also get his fair share of camera time due to him nearly killing Rooney in the last game (that’s if he’s even got the guts to show his face.  I would if I was him: tickets must be well cheap at your own stadium if you’re a player); and finally, the whole team playing against us (someone told a mate of mine that they’re supposed to be quite good.  Said “mate” then relayed this information to me.  I wrote it down here.  The technical term for this is “research”.

Prediction:  Moyes will have learned from the last outing that Fellaini is only cut out for chest tricks and time-wasting, so he will be saved for when we need to protect our lead.  To get into this “lead” situation I’ve just mentioned, and which I assume is a good thing, Rooney will score from 97 yards, Welbz will zup zup for Brett’s customary two and Good Kagawa will be the glorious architect of it all; cementing his place in the annals of United history.  Glory, Glory Man United!!!  1-0 Bayern

No offerings from Mum today, although she did give me a yoghurt which I ate.

About the author:  I didn’t really eat it.

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Brett:

What part of ‘you don’t have to play Wayne Rooney in every single game to get the best out of our squad, to play the most magical football (that we are more than capable of playing), to facilitate the enjoyment of football for all United’s fans and all interested neutrals, to get the best results, and to make the world a better place’, does Moyes not understand? Oh actually, I just worked it out: it’s the ‘don’t’ bit.

The allegation – or is it the crocodilation (I can never tell the difference) – levelled at us by most sane people, after the first leg, was that we’re too regressive to progress; and thus haven’t got a chance. But I read in a book once that ‘history teaches us that it’s often the ‘mad’ ones that get it right’, and if it’s in a book then it must be true. I’ve never read anything in a book to make me doubt that things in books aren’t true. Have you? Didn’t think so. I have only read that one book, and I only skimmed it, cos I was watching Take Me Out and Paddy had just said something right funny (you had to be there), but still … if we can just find someone mad enough to predict a United win, then I’m pretty sure that means it’s going to happen. Are you still with me? Good.  Well, can you explain to me what on earth I just said? ‘cos I stopped listening/caring about 580 posts ago. If I’m honest I sometimes drive myself … mad. Hold on a minute…!

Prediction: 2-3. Danny with his customary two. The other from Swag. POTY in waiting Dave to do as he do (#VoteDave). The David Moyes we’ve got to remove his mask and reveal he was the David Moyes we hoped we might be getting, all along.

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Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

Prediction: Going to go with 3-1 United if for no other reason that I’m trying to be more optimistic for the new year – No, Tom Cleverley IS a midfielder – and we seem incapable of clean sheets.

In other news, I have won an elephant and called it Zup Zup – pictures to follow…

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Brett:

Okay, so as I correctly guessed the Villa result and scorers, and then pretty much got the West Ham score and scorers too … and then got the Hull result and general way the game would go spot on … Gah! I don’t know where I’m going with this sentence again, and again I’m going to have bin it mid-way through. Was just trying to crowbar in what I’d done again – exactly the same as before. I actually just copied and pasted it and changed a few words. Will have to work on this for the Spurs game; after I’ve got it right again. Though it hasn’t gone unnoticed that the Premier League have hurriedly scheduled in a game against Norwich in order to put a stop to it: Norwich is latin for ‘No! Witch!’ Keep up. Well, let’s see who has the last cackle and gets burned and drowned best.

No! Witch! will no doubt be a threat in their own cauldron, and what with Dennis Hopper jazzing them in from a squillion yards out, like he has been, we could be in for a bumpy ride (on a broomstick, perhaps). Everyone likes Ray Houghton – so let’s hope we don’t stuff ‘em too hard. If you’re at the ground, look out for black cats. Oh, how embarrassing I said Ray, I meant Chantelle. Oh, and I also said Dennis Hopper, I meant Waterman.

A bit of proper squad shuffling to do for Moyes with injury and suspension pinching a few extra players. Fortunately, old tinker-pants has been preparing for these situations – where you actually need to shuffle things around a bit – by shuffling things around in every game up to this point.

Prediction: 0 – 1. Danny with his customary two. Me to do a tweet about Snodgrass being a word that rhymes with greener, on the other side. The elephant pics, to involve Tom’s pockets turned inside out.

Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

Crisis averted, I’m back (it can’t have escaped anyone’s notice that our season has dipped dramatically since I went on sabbatical). I’ll be honest, I was hoping that my return would coincide with a decisive victory against Everton but since that’s clearly not going to happen, it might as well be now*.

Anyways, what can we expect from this game? Personally, I’m hoping we can try some more of that passing lark we managed in Germany – I’m no coach but I’ve noticed that keeping the ball and moving it forward really improves our chances of scoring –  whilst crosses that beat the first man would also be a nice touch. I’m deliberately not mentioning Kagawa due to a wish to avoid actual physical war (boy, is HE a touchy subject – its like Carrick all over again). Maybe play our World Class RB, see how that goes; maybe try to avoid conceding late….I’m grasping at straws I know.

Newcastle of course come into this in far better shape – I dont need to prove that with statistics/results/facts because Alan Pardew’s won MOTM – and although in football terms they’re still the underdog, we still have a midfield with Tom Cleverley and Fellaini in it. On the plus side, it is at home. Oh….

Fortunately, none of this really matters because of late I’ve realised that this United is very much the Galatic Senate from Star Wars – a glorious reminder of a great age, on a a downward slide into a brutal Galatic Empire (See: City, Chelsea) “But Tom” I hear you cry, “You said this doesn’t matter!” – Calm yourselves; what happened AFTER the Emperor took over? BOOM – Rebel Alliance, Return of the Jedi (Januzaj), fall of Evil, Han, Chewie, Luke, Lando and Leia all go home for tea and medals. We just have to hope it doesn’t take 20 years (lazy Lucas, lazy).

Prediction: United 2 – 1 Newcastle. It could be literally anything to anyone, I just cant bring myself to be that pessimistic.

*No-one’s online for GTA. Blame them. I have a list of their names if needed.

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Brett:

Is there such a thing as ‘The Curse of the Manager of the Month Award’?! NO THERE ISN’T! It was a test. You passed the test – but barely. Feel free to read on, but remember I’ve got my eye on you…

Newcastle are like a team who you think you like until you actually get down to thinking about why you like them, and then you’re all like man why did I think I like them again?, and then you’re all like yeah that was weird of me to think I liked them. You don’t exactly dislike them though, either. Anyway, enough about them…

Adnan and Danny are going to show them what’s what, what. What?!

Fellaini said he wanted to be a defensive midfielder. Fellaini said that defensive midfielder was his favourite position. Fellaini has the defensive midfield instincts of a cashew nut with Jack Nicholson for a face. Exactly. Fellaini has never been a defensive midfielder. Still fully expect him to be brilliant though.

With Wayne “style over substance and substance over style, without being either substantially stylish or stylishly substantial enough” Rooney suspended we’ll have to rely on things like a strong team ethic and selflessness to get us through. Good luck with that.

There’s a Joe Kinnear somewhere.

Prediction: 2 – 1. Danny with his customary two. Alan Pardew to remove his Alan Pardew mask to reveal he was Alan Pardew all along.

Tom Cleverley is fertile ground for cynics, and it would be reasonable to assert that he’s invited this upon himself in apparently choosing to embrace narcissism where authenticity would have served him better. Cynics are, after all, hopeless romantics with cripplingly high moral and ethical (and mostly hypocritical) standards, that the modern footballer couldn’t possibly hope to live up to. But aligned with this cynicism aimed at Tom Cleverley, often comes blame; blame for United’s current plight, seeded within the lack of a midfield of note – which I think is unfair. It’s true that the emotions which accompany any loss creates scapegoats and there isn’t much that still hurts United fans more – in a footballing sense – than the loss of Roy Keane (especially as the club outright refuses to adequately replace him, and the more protracted the non-attempt becomes the worser it gets). It’s instinctive to lay blame, it’s overwhelming, and whether appropriated correctly or not  – with the Glazers, who we know are ultimately responsible, appearing deaf to the noise – it’s almost the only relief from those emotions. But because, as football fans, we never really stop blaming (the referee, the fourth official, the rules, the weather, a dodgy pint, a butterfly flapping its wings, a pube on an ice-cream) we never allow ourselves the time to stop and realise just how irrelevant it is. It ushers in a failure of sympathy towards players – players just like Tom Cleverley.

One of the things repeatedly levelled at the modern footballer, of which Tom Cleverley is very much one the last time I looked, is that “they’re getting paid X-amount of money, so should be playing an F-load better”. This suggests that what any given player offers at any given time is finite (that they’re nothing more than vending machines): a flawed concept – it doesn’t take into account the unique circumstances any one individual inhabits.  For example, Tom Cleverley’s ‘breakthrough season’ at United was dogged by injury, making it difficult to carry through any kind of form, or develop.  Tom Cleverley has also recently become a dad, shifting the priorities in his life (at least you’d hope so). He plays for Manchester United, a club that currently has a real problem with the concept of midfield, a club that have let down all of their playing staff with its lack of serious and considered intention to improve where it is failing. A club now going through a lot of change, which effects everyone.

You can try and star in midfield, but you cant do it on your own; players need to be coalesced. As gifted as the players we’ve had (and there have been plenty better than Tom Cleverley) in the past twenty years have been, they’ve still needed Eric’s poise, or a Roy Keane thrust to get them a result. A team needs these sorts of players, these ‘leaders’. Tom Cleverley is not a leader (in the old fashioned, yet still important sense), none of the midfielders in the squad are (Carrick is a leader by example; Fletcher too). The only perceived leaders left in the United side have their own problems: Evra, Rooney (leader lols), Vidic, who’s running down his contract, Rio’s limping down his.

Fergie said lots of things that we don’t need to remember (unless we’re remembering in order to enable the forgetting), but he did once say that nostalgia plays tricks on us* (*that’s some irony). Nostalgia would have us believe that Roy Keane would be eyeballing Vieira in the tunnel before every game, not just the Arsenal ones, or dragging us through to the Champions League final even when we were playing in the second round of the League Cup against York City. Scholesy would be volleying in from corners against Barcelona every week, and celebrating whilst hitting a player on the head who’s having a piss by a tree on the other side of the world. These moments, that encapsulate what these players came to represent, inform how we remember them. These things weren’t happening all the time and there were periods with these two in the team when we weren’t winning, and weren’t dominating. And though achieving just half of what they could do, and did do, on the pitch would make you some force, they weren’t, in every instance they took to the pitch, the Roy Keane and Paul Scholes that we compare the likes of Tom Cleverley to. It’s only on reflection, after a reasonable period of time, that we can really assess any player’s contribution (see also: Darren Fletcher).

I’ve seen Tom Cleverley when playing instinctively – not just in the past, but this very season – and his ability to shift a ball around is enviable, and something that very few players I’ve seen are capable of doing at the pace he does, and so I find it a little premature to be writing his United obituary just yet. However, when given time on the ball, habits of an altogether different nature surface: at times when Tom Cleverley passes the ball, he really passes it. He wants you to know he’s passing it: “Look at me passing this ball in that direction” the follow-through and accompanying body language shouts. This, for me, isn’t about technique, ’tis mere trompe l’oeil; style over substance. Just ‘cus you look like you’re passing it doesn’t mean you’re actually passing it passing it. When he does shape his body in this more affected way he tends to make a right mess of it. Superficial affectations like these continue to creep into the game: where once players were primarily concerned with playing good, they are now compelled to want to look good doing it; and they perhaps end up playing a role, and forget to be it.

There’s no doubt that narcissism has warped ambition: ‘I want to play at the top level’ becomes ‘I want to be a top level player’. The latter entails an image of what being a top level player looks like, the former is prepared to work hard, to persevere (different to Van Persievere, where you try quite hard for a bit to win something with one team and then switch club when you’ve had enough of the trying quite hard, and win something with another team), to recognise weaknesses and work on them, use them as a source of strength; they set themselves personal goals so that the application of their talent never lacks ambition. Perhaps the latter, the one who wants ‘to be a top level player’, having already won the Premier League winners medal and gotten himself into the England team – more than most players achieve – sees that as enough? I think he needs the club to invest in some proper players to help him decide.

Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

Brett:

Zup Zup and away! (copyright @BeautifullyRed) There will never come a time, when I tire of watching that goal. My favourite type of goal, from my favourite player. Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree? I’ve travelled the world and the seven seas. Everybody’s looking for something. Amirite? The season can end now.

The game was almost everything we were expecting: Swansea providing a proper challenge; no-one match sharp (some loose passing in defence, we could have done without, but hey, first day and all). BUT I didn’t expect RvP to be on it quite so soon. He’s a bit good inny?! I DID expect Danny to be that guy – I think he’s going to be it and a bit this season – but even though I did predict it, I couldn’t really have ever predicted he’d score two – and how!

Encouraging signs from Tony (I’ve said that before), great vision and execution for Danny’s first. Patrice continues to amaze (and sometimes forget where he is). Cleverley needs games and to trust his left foot more – they’re only short passes, so why he has to always use his right is frustrating. My left when I played, was a redundant prop but I could still pass distances of ten yards and under. Sort it aaat. Other than that, I’m a big fan of T-ClevZ, so long as the affectations that are sneaking in are kept to a minimum, he’ll be some player; I’m sure of it.

I can’t really talk about the game without mentioning Rooney … oh wait, yes I can.

With a miniscule amount of that weight of expectation having lifted, Moyes’ furrowed brow already appears less so and that’s the best bit about the result for me (apart from Danny’s goal, obvs).

MOTM: Come on.