Whatever I’ve come to expect from these tours – we’ve just done number 12 – there are always surprises. No two expeditions are the same, with each trip throwing balls that curve in different directions.

The 2010 tour was sold out quite early, but a couple of people found family commitments got in the way and we eventually left with a few empty seats. The cancellations came too late to re-sell the seats, but that we set off at all was a huge relief. The Icelandic volcanic ash cloud had us all keeping a keen eye on news reports, as airlines all over Europe were grounded for several days.

Fortunately though, it all cleared enough for us to depart on schedule, and we arrived at Heathrow on a cold and cloudy morning. The flight had been uneventful – thankfully! – the only highlight being the news filtering through that Spurs had nicked the final 4th Champions League spot as City’s expense. The noisy neighbours won’t be having any foreign friends over to play next season, and there’s no point in their fans applying for passports either.
 
As always, not everyone turns up when it’s time to board the coach at Heathrow and it gets a bit frustrating when we have to send someone to look for a missing passenger, and then after a while send someone else to look for the passenger who went to look for the missing passenger!! Perhaps I should look into electronic tagging for future tours….

Thanks to most Britons being at the polls, there was little traffic on the motorways, and we made good time to Manchester. The weather didn’t let us down: as expected, it was miserable, and I was glad I’d brought warm clothing.
The afternoon was spent at leisure, and most people rushed off either to the Trafford Centre – always my first choice – or to check out the pubs in Monton.

On our first morning in the European Capital of Football everyone was down sharply for breakfast, eager for an early start to the Theatre of Dreams. The coach was on time, and we set off.

The first sight of the home of the Champions is always an emotional one, be it one’s very first sighting or the 100th. There is so much history surrounding this stadium, with so many wonderful players having graced the pitch over the years. The history is almost tangible in some areas.  The stadium has changed so much over the years too. I’m not a fan of the chrome and glass era, and I still object to Sir Matt poised over the entrance to the Megastore. It just doesn’t seem fitting.  The newest statue of Charlton/Best/Law, situated opposite the stadium, has become the standard meeting place, where it used to be the Munich clock.

The group disappeared into the Megastore and I went to the Museum to collect the tickets for the stadium tour. First problem: For the past 11 years I’ve been able to provide a list of members and membership numbers when collecting the tour tickets. Now, it seems, they’ve changed the rules and the girl at the desk informed me that she would need ALL the membership cards “in my hand” to allow the members’ discount. The discount being 50% I was forced to walk up to the Megastore and collect as many One United cards as I could. Not everyone was there, and some didn’t have their cards with them. It ended in having to pay much more for the entrance fee than I’d budgeted for. Thank you, Old Trafford Bureaucracy! (I was informed too that, for future reference, photo copies of cards would NOT be acceptable.)

The stadium tours have also changed over the years.  Time was we would be taken to the Press room, where players like Eric Cantona signed, and where the manager would meet the press after a match – if he was in the mood. That part of the stadium, along with the Police control station, and the Directors dining room, are no longer included in the tours, but we did get to sit in the North stand, and visit the section reserved for the disabled fans and their helpers (it always irks me that these fans should be made to sit directly below the visiting fans. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like there when reprobates like Leeds or City fans are sitting above them.)

Very much part of the stadium tour now is a walk down the Munich Tunnel, a permanent tribute to the people who lost their lives in ’58.  This picture was taken a few weeks before the squad departed for Belgrade, and it’s interested to note that the players in red, sitting together for this shot, were the ones who perished.

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We also got taken to the dugout – via the old tunnel, the only thing left of the original stadium - and sat in the manager’s seat; visited the dressing room and the players’ lounge (no alcohol is served there), and finally walked down the tunnel to the sound of the stadium announcer’s voice and the accompanying music as he introduced the Premier League Champions, Manchester UNITED!!!   It’s a sign of the times that the tour ends in the Megastore – just in case you had missed it!
I won’t apologise for constantly harping back to better days, and I lament the wonders of the old United shop, with a far more interesting variety of goods on sale. The Megastore caters more for the once-a-year visitor. Ohmygosh, that’s us!!!
Lunch in the Red Cafe followed the tour.  Nothing spectacular, but it’s more about the venue than the food. The coach wouldn’t be fetching us until later, so after lunch the group had time to split up and spend time visiting the museum.
Unfortunately the Premiership trophy had already been removed from its cabinet in the entranceway, to be prepared for presentation to either United or Chelsea a couple of days later, but there is still a stunning array of trophies, collected over the years, to admire.  The Munich display has been allocated less space in order to accommodate the OT100 exhibition, but the cabinet at the end of the room, containing personal items of the players who lost their lives and also Duncan Edwards’ telegram to his landlady, is there.  The whole exhibition never fails to move me.

There is of course also the Treble exhibition, celebrating the 1998-99 season, a haul which is unlikely to be equalled – and even if any team ever does, will it be in such dramatic fashion? Replicas of the trophies gleam in the central cabinet, and footage of the stoppage time drama replays over and over in a loop. Name on the trophy indeed! It never fails to have me groping for tissues, and I find it hard to tear myself away.

In January 1994 Jim and I visited the museum, which in those days was a small affair, with few items on display, and little fanfare. I recall quite clearly walking down a corridor, turning a corner and finding the newly acquired Premiership trophy, sitting atop a plinth, waiting to be admired. Not in a cabinet, no armed guards.  We were able to take photos, standing with the trophy, without any problem. There was a man hanging about, but he was quite casual about the cargo he was in charge of, and was happy to chat and show us the dent in the silver. This had been put there when Someone had dropped the trophy during the celebrations back in May. Few people get close to the actual trophy these days but there is a good replica on hand for photos in the Museum – along with the Carling Cup - and if you want your picture taken with them,  it will cost GBP15 a shot. Technology allows them to slot in a backdrop of the inside of the stadium, giving one a splendid record of the day.

I wish I could absolutely guarantee the visit to Carrington, but it’s becoming more difficult to get permission from the manager.  He is not happy with anyone visiting the training ground these days, and more especially on the eve of an important match.  I got the news that we would not be allowed access a few weeks before our departure from Johburg and had to find alternative activities for the day. I had thought we could visit the excellent Football Museum in Preston, but was disappointed to find that the decision had been taken to close the museum prior to moving it to Manchester. Unfortunately for us, the move isn’t due until 2011.  

So instead I contacted the City of Manchester Stadium and booked a tour. If nothing else, we’d get a laugh out of that, surely?  As it turned out, we spent a thoroughly entertaining morning.  Our tour guide, Chris, almost had a heart attack when he realised he had a gaggle of Manchester United supporters to show around, but he took the constant banter with great humour.   The tour guides at Old Trafford could learn a lot from him. I’ve always found them to be pretty dour! We laughed a lot on the Eastlands tour, and not always at Chris.

They seem to be more concerned with the community there, and the fans are definitely better looked after in many respects. Inside the stadium, on the walls of the walkways behind the stands, the impressions of some fans earliest memories of supporting Man City are recorded, in their own words, with all the spelling and grammatical mistakes.  They have a Garden of Remembrance, where fans are able to scatter the ashes of loved-ones who loved City, a garden that was full of small bunches of flowers. Chris made the point that for families to ask for ashes to be spread on the pitch wasn’t really viable. To bring home that point, as we toured the stadium the pitch was being dug up to be re-laid for the new season!

The afternoon was free for the group, and as most wanted to spend it at the Trafford Centre, we had the coach driver take everyone there. How fortunate, it turned out, because some of us found the red and black United shirts on sale for ₤12.50! Who cares if there’ll be new ones out in a few weeks? Isn’t retro the rage?

Pete Boyle had contacted me a few days prior to our departure from Johburg to tell me about a ‘United Nights’ evening which was to be held in a pub in central Manchester on Saturday evening. With the exception of just two of the party, everyone was keen to go. We arranged a fleet of 3 mini-cabs to transport us into town, and then had to wait for the doorman to get permission from someone via his walky-talky for both Melissa (aged 9) and Alon (aged 17 - but claiming to be 18) to enter. I think because they were part of a group, all of whom undertook to ensure neither of them had any alcohol, we got the go-ahead for their entry.

The idea is to have a small group of ex-United players spend the evening in a Q&A session, a sing-a-long with Pete, a few prizes, a few drinks, and a totally uninspiring buffet of cold ham and cheese breadrolls and warmish chips. Ok, so the food was awful, but we weren’t there because we thought we might get a hotel style buffet. The chat from the players was entertaining, but perhaps Arthur could get some more training in public speaking. Bless him, he’s not very comfortable, and that, along with his quiet Scots accent, makes him difficult to understand.

During the one of the breaks, David May came and sat himself down at our table and his reaction to being told that we’d visited Eastlands earlier in the day was hilarious. He was shocked, called for Security, and suggested we could have stayed in bed rather, if we’d needed something else to do with having been denied Carrington. David is obviously very comfortable talking to people, and told us with pride that he’s been to ‘Soufafrica’ many times.  He has taken part in the Soccerex promotion at Sandton Square over the past few years, but told me he’s looking forward to going to Brazil this year, as they will be hosting the next World Cup.

Another successful evening over, we arranged mini-cab transport back to the hotel.

The weather is always a concern, and, as tv weatherpersons (male and female) kept telling us, the UK was experiencing “unseasonal” weather conditions. It was with great relief to find on the day of the match that, while it was on the cool side, there was no rain.  Kick-off wasn’t scheduled until 4pm but activity around Old Trafford starts early and some of the members were keen to get into the Bishops Blaize as soon as possible so, when the coach arrived, everyone  boarded without hesitation. We even took a couple of extra passengers, those being two young French fans who needed a lift.

These days, because of the MUST protest movement, green and gold around the stadium gets as much support as red. The MUST volunteers were out in force, handing out posters with information, as well as whistles which they wanted blown during half-time. That project seemed to fall a little flat. There was a shockingly loud rendition of whistles just prior to the end of the match, but that was about it. The “We want Glaser out, we want Glaser out” chants continued throughout the match though.
United did their part, with a 4-0 win over Stoke City, but we could see a change in their attitude and drive after half-time when the news came through that Chelsea were leading Wigan 2-0 at Stamford Bridge. We knew there was no chance then of retaining the Premiership, but from the stands, the support never waivered. “We’ll never die, we’ll never die..” rang out from the Stretford End, over and over.

One can’t hear all the songs clearly on Supersport, and even in the stadium it’s not always possible to understand what the section of crowd at the other end of the Stretford End is singing. The one chant that everyone seemed to get into unison with though was “We want Glaser out, we want Glaser out”.

Because I wanted to be able to report on our branch seats in the Stretford End, Jim and I used those seats. They are in the 2nd tier, four rows from the balcony, just behind the ’34 years banner’. The view of the pitch is amazing, being close enough to see individual players clearly, but high enough to get an unobstructed view of the match. Getting to the seats involves some stairs, but it’s not the back row of Tier 3 in North stand. I’ve been there, and, trust me, getting up there is a killer!!

When we’d queued to get into the stand earlier, I was surprised to find people being searched before being allowed through the turnstile. Not a full body search, but definitely a pat-down. I was waved through though (how disappointing), as was Jim when he was asked his age! We obviously don’t look like the usual football hooligan.

At the final whistle the players stayed on the pitch, the manager took the microphone and thanked the fans for their support over the past season. Of course he was disappointed that the title had gone to London, but he promised a fresh challenge to win it back next season. The players then walked round the perimeter of the pitch in their usual end-of-season salute to the fans. Some had brought their children out with them to enjoy the experience, but there obviously wasn’t the same enjoyment there could have been had we scored just one goal against Blackburn.

So another season came to and end. There is a sense of disappointment that we ‘only’ won the Carling Cup, but it is nonetheless another trophy in the cabinet. A truly bulging cabinet. Given the difficulties with injuries to the squad this season,  that we finished just one point behind Chelsea is remarkable. Yes, we surprisingly lost to Burnley early in the season, but we also lost twice to Chelsea – and never mind unfair free kicks and off-side goals – and had our other ‘Owen’ (Goal) to thank for 11 goals in the campaign.

Wayne Rooney walked off with almost every single individual award – so let Drogba have the Golden Boot – and we’ve seen some more of Fergie’s Fledglings flex their wings. If Owen Hargreaves manages to get himself fit it will be like having a completely new player, and we thankfully have another season at least of Paul Scholes and Ryan Giggs skills.

I look forward to the kick-off in the 2010-11 season, with another branch trip in May 2011, and the hope that we’ll witness the return of the Premiership trophy to its traditional home. Perhaps you can be there too.

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