I became a Manchester United fan in the early hours of a May Sunday morning, glued to black-and-white images of Alan Sunderland sinking dreams of glory in extra time, stabbing home the winner of the ‘five minute final’, the 1979 FA Cup final.
The United players slumped then, and at the fulltime whistle so soon afterwards. And it seemed for the next 20 years, while the faces changed, the anguish never really did.
Nowadays, I begin my day, like so many others on this side of the world, needing a coffee and needing to know who will be wearing the famous red shirt, or leaving it behind.
I once sat bolt upright in my seat on the Jubilee line tube, carrying me to work in London’s south, stunned that United and Alex Ferguson could have possibly done the unthinkable and traded Eric Cantona.
It was 1994 and he was in full pomp.
The man opposite did the tube origami of folding the paper to the next page without flapping it in the faces of those either side, and I was presented with news that a woman had given birth to a snake, in Peterborough. So I read with interest still, but scepticism lurked.
I grew up with the weight of the great Liverpool teams of the late 1970s and early ‘80s hanging over my dreams of glory for United, such a weight that the successes of Aston Villa, Nottingham Forest or Everton became solace. It seemed that an FA Cup final here and there was to be the lot of United, great players coming and going without a great team emerging, let alone a dynasty.
Jump forward to the present day, the reign of Sir Alex making United what they are now.
I had delighted in his defining comments regarding Liverpool, Ferguson’s overarching desire to “knock them off their perch” when he made the move south from his Scottish success.
I owned the fridge magnet, told the story whenever someone noted it on their way for another beer during the game. The story as it had always been for me, what a sigh of pure relief 1993-94 had been, how much the ‘90s meant after so much resignation to United being the also-rans.
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But I have grown to miss Liverpool, ‘This is Anfield’ had been such a challenge, that only the Ferguson United had seemed worthy, after all that time.
Now the gossip columns begin with the scuttlebutt of greatest potential import, and invariably if the names are players that would walk into any team, the story comes from the Manchester Evening News, United and City vying for a signature. Or from The Sun, Chelsea beating a European giant to the buy-out clause.
Liverpool are relegated to the lower paragraphs, among the West Broms and the Leverkusens, only venturing towards the lofty heights when their players become sought after by the clubs that inhabit that stratosphere above. Almost as if the players have strayed, and need to be brought back to the proper fold, such as when Luis Suarez became so important.
Liverpool thrived most in the days of home-grown talent, the recent loss of Ronnie Moran bringing pause to reflect on memories of those teams.
These days are different though, and the introduction of a Neymar or an Antoine Griezmann is the catalyst now, bringing others in tow, seeking the European football and domination that defines careers.
United under Jose Mourinho will search for success that became the norm with Ferguson, the level at which the world’s best players will again put United among the teams at the head of their preferred destinations. Part of that will be moving beyond the likes of Liverpool of the past 20 years, back into the realm of the likes of Chelsea and City.
Perhaps it is just my age, the part played by those years of the Championship table always headed by Liverpool come May, United fighting it out below with the likes of Ipswich and Norwich for a European place. But I hope Jurgen Klopp brings Liverpool the title that has not come in so long.
Liverpool should not be a team fighting for cups, and Anfield should intimidate the Madrids and the Barcelonas.
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