*Shakes head* Everton again.
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You haven’t posted a breakfast for a while. You were carrying this thread for a bit. What’s happened? -
Episode 2 Phenomenally.good. Possibly the funniest episode I've seen.so far Greg..I'm too young to go to congress Shiv..you can.show everyone your pee pee but at some point you will have to fuck someone. I camt think of a better written.show and it's getting into gomorrah/the wire/game of thrones status Outstanding -
Nothing complicated about mine. Just the King's initials and shirt number. -
By Rushies tash · Posted
Hand me down Chopper. Pretty cool but shit to ride. Lent it to a girl from the chippy who fell off it and bent the pedals. Replaced that with a bmx made up of different parts from four different bikes. Loved that thing. -
Saw this on RedCafe today (I couldnt help myself)# Excerpt from the rat Evras book- an interesting read illustrating how the mighty empire was beginning to come crashing down starting with Moyes- The problems with David Moyes started soon after he’d taken over in pre-season 2013. David was really nice with everyone as he tried to settle into the job as Manchester United manager, but everything he did was compared to how things had been under Sir Alex Ferguson.
Even the slightest change would start players griping about how this wasn’t what the old boss would have had us doing. In Sydney, during a warm-up tour, David suggested that we should do some stretching on Bondi Beach near the hotel.
He wanted the players to relax, to get out of the prison that hotels can become. United’s own security, who travelled with the team, suggested that it wasn’t the best idea because we’d instantly be recognised. David just replied that he’d been to the beach with Everton and that there were no problems. “Yes, but you’re at Man United,” one of the security team pointed out.
So we went to Bondi, and started to stretch on the beach. Within five minutes, about 50 people started running towards us as word spread. Security, who were furious as the situation began to spiral out of control, tried to stop fans who were barging right into the session, but they had no chance — Man United were training right in front of people in a public place. Mounted police arrived to restore some order. It was a shambles and we had to leave for everyone’s safety.
There was every reason, however, to be optimistic for the new season but by late September, for the first time in my stay at United, we were sixth and seventh in the table. The fear other teams had of us disappeared in a few short months. Old Trafford had simply stopped being a fortress. You only had to look at David’s face to see the pressure he was under.
But the way he dealt with it and us was a big mistake. In the dressing room before one game, he said, “Guys, you’ve won everything here, you have to show me the way to win. I have never won the league, you have to show me how to do it.” I could see what David was trying to do by making the players feel responsible, but Ferguson would never have asked his players how to win a game. He would have told us how to do it.
Some players used that against him because they thought they were now in charge. Players who’d accepted being on the bench under Ferguson would complain if they were on the bench under Moyes. That made a very hard job even harder.
I remember one time when the left back Alex Büttner had a massive plate of chips in the hotel before a game, which the manager objected to and banned. Chips aren’t the best food for a professional athlete so I can understand that, and David had a point, but the story appeared in a newspaper two days later.
David was slaughtered in the media for making changes like that and he reacted by letting players eat chips again. The players knew they were in charge, and there was some sort of incident every day, always an unhappy player. Players became cruel and joked that Bebé had won more medals than Moyes.
“Guys, we have to take some responsibility,” I said in training after weeks of this negativity. “We have to give the guy a chance.”
“How can you kiss his arse when he tried to sign someone in your position?” one came back at me. “He’s tried to sign every fecking left back in the world.”
I’d gone to talk to David after our drubbing at City in September, where Sergio Agüero had run riot. I gave it to him straight, “There’s something wrong here, boss. The dressing room is not happy and I’ve not seen that in my time here before.” David admitted that he wasn’t the best communicator with the players, but told me that I should focus on my own game as I was playing well. What was a big issue in my mind didn’t seem to worry the manager.
As the situation deteriorated I decided to text Ferguson to see if I could talk to him at his home. Cathy Ferguson made me a nice cup of tea. “Boss, you have to help David,” I told Ferguson. “Patrice, I appreciate your concern and I’ll try and speak to him, but I’ve given him the biggest chance of his life and I think it’s fair that I keep a distance and let him do his job.”
We lost at home to West Brom at the end of September, a humiliating result for a team who had won the league five months earlier. I wasn’t alone in thinking David had made a mistake by getting rid of Ferguson’s three main coaches, Mick Phelan — a real football coach who held enjoyable training sessions — René Meulensteen and Eric Steele.
In February 2014, we lost 2-0 at Olympiacos in the Champions League. Our performance was dreadful. As I got back on to the team plane, I walked past David Moyes’s father sitting at the front. I felt for him, he should have been proud to see his son managing Manchester United in a big European game, but the defeat overtook everything.
I expected the players to be distraught on that plane; instead they were laughing around and playing video games, which admittedly was the normal thing to do on the way back home, but I didn’t feel it was the right thing to do after a humiliating defeat in Greece. The players had decided that the manager, not them, was the problem.
Again, I went to see David and told him that I was going to call a players’ meeting because the season was turning into a disaster. “I’m telling you because I don’t want you thinking that I’ve gone behind your back,” I explained. “Do it, Pat, that’s fine.” David was really down and getting criticism from everywhere. He needed support from the people who could help him, the players.
We held that meeting at Carrington and everyone aired their opinions. The players admitted that they weren’t performing to their abilities but that they didn’t have full faith in the manager. Too many of them blamed the manager.
We won away at West Brom in the first game after Olympiacos, but then we lost 3-0 at home to Liverpool, a disastrous result. David called a meeting of the defenders the following day. Nemanja Vidic was coming back from injury and it was common knowledge that he was leaving for Inter Milan at the end of the season.
David went through all the defensive players and picked out Nemanja and Phil Jones for criticism for their positioning. Suddenly, Nemanja started swearing in Serbian. “Sorry, do you have a problem?” David asked a visibly emotional Nemanja. “We have to defend one against one, but Rafael and Patrice are always high, they think they are strikers, they need to stay back.”
I disputed that, shouting, “You have to take your responsibility, Nemanja!” We stood up and argued, unable to hear each other above each other’s shouts. We started to square up and then I pushed him. David was going mad, telling me to calm down.
David’s assistants were now keeping us apart as I shouted at Nemanja, “I’ll wait for you after training.” It escalated in no time. My plan was to wait for Nemanja and fight him after training because David’s assistants wouldn’t let me get near him at the club. I would see him in the car park and we could fight there and then, man to man.
As I was thinking my plan through, one of the coaches told me that the manager wanted to see me in his office. David was shocked — I don’t think he’d seen two players fight like that before. I told the manager that I was sorry, that I shouldn’t have pushed Nemanja. “Where did that strength come from, Pat?” he replied, surprised and laughing. “But seriously, you cannot fall out with Nemanja like that.” “I know,” I replied.
I was still really angry, though, and went back home and planned how I was going to punch Vida the next day. I’d barely calmed down the next morning when I arrived at training and changed, but I didn’t see Vida all day. David told me not to do anything stupid and I promised him that I wouldn’t.
On Easter Sunday 2014, we lost 2-0 to Everton. Giggsy, who had been dropped, went mad after that match when Everton fans surrounded our bus and started abusing us. One of them threw something that bounced off the coach window. Giggsy stood up on the coach and shouted: “fecking Everton fans are now taking the piss out of us. Enough is enough.”
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