theatre of dreams

so i’m not a “true” manchester united fan.

it’s not my fault that sir alex ferguson became manager even before i was born. it’s not my fault they were just starting to win stuff when i began to understand what football was. and it certainly isn’t my fault that my then-teenage sister decided she liked manchester united because my father is an alumnus of the university of manchester (although he did live closer to citeh’s home ground) and i, being a natural older-sister-worshipper at age 8, decided to follow suit.

the closest i came to playing football was that stint in futsal in college. i don’t play video games, never did the fantasy football thing and i am still a mess when it comes to grasping the real significance of transfers and formations and strategies.

but boy do i love my club. i love watching them play, i love listening to others analyse the game afterwards, i love the jesting, the bordering-on-insulting remarks we throw at each other in person, on twitter, on facebook. i love the camaraderie i have with the people who love the same club i do.

and i love the history of the club, which is something i understand more than the game itself.

so going to old trafford was important to me. some call it a pilgrimage, a journey essential to one’s relationship with manchester united. i can’t say it was a religious experience, but it came pretty close to that. it was important that i get there. it was one of my first stops during my trip to the uk.

i just couldn’t wait.

the sticker on the road sign says “love united, hate glazer”.

where the “true” united faithful would enter in order to get into…

…stretford end. the tunnel where the players enter the pitch was relocated next to the stretford end so the fans could be in closer proximity to the team.

the girl who took this photo for me promptly copied my pose when i returned the favour. hai.

btw only about 1% of seats are allocated to fans of visiting teams whenever they play at old trafford. that’s 68000 people in united jerseys vs 8000 visitors. intimidating? i should think so!

with my hero. he probably really does sit in that spot in the dressing room.

“named after gary pallister, renowned for his dislike of training, this shirt was given to the player who performed worst at training. 1998-99” rotfl.

and the last word…

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