MANUNITED.NETLANE.COM : TODAYS NEWS
Date: Sat Apr 11 16:16:31 GMT+01:00 1998
Mail: barry@www.red11.org

We drew aginst Liverpool Alex say's the Championship is in Arsenal's hands.
More mind games......fingers firmly crossed now!
Barry your editor

	PIC TODAY:  Ronny Johnson v Liverpool yesterday

This Issue:
1. Big Pete admits guilt!!
2. Injury news/ Cruyff out?
3. Life in hell (an extremely long 'match report')
4. Jaap Stam

++++++=========+++++++========+++++++++========++++++++



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Date:         Sat, 11 Apr 1998 13:05:52 +0100
Reply-To: "Manchester United Football Club (soccer)"
              
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From: Niall Mullally 
Organization: Ireland Online
Subject:      Big Pete admits guilt!!
To: MUFC@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU

Big Pete has come out and actually admitted he was responsible for Owen's goal!!
There's a first time for everything it seems :-)  He said he thought Pallister
had it covered so he didn't rush out so he could give him space to pass it back.
If you want to hear more about it, his thoughts on Owen's "tackling" and the
title run-in there's a 190 second real audio interview with him at

		http://www.iol.ie/~redcafe/sounds.htm

Here's to Newcastle and Blackburn doing us a big favour in the next couple of
days..........

Cheers

Niall Mullally
----------
Manchester United Red Cafe - http://www.iol.ie/~redcafe/




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Date:         Sat, 11 Apr 1998 12:34:22 +0100
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From: J Callaghan 
Subject:    Injury news/ Cruyff out?
Comments: To: RED-DEVILS@PIPELINE.COM
To: MUFC@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU
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SATURDAY, APRIL 11, 1998


United injury worries mount «« 
United's injury problems have resurfaced - threatening to dent their hopes
of retaining the Premiership title.
The Reds were held to a 1-1 draw despite Liverpool playing the entire
second half with just ten men after Michael Owen was sent-off shortly
before half-time. The game saw Ronny Johnsen carried off after the
challenge which led to Owen's second yellow card. The defender suffered
ligament damage which could rule him out for the rest of the campaign.
United's Welsh winger Ryan Giggs could also be forced to miss yet more
games as a result of the hamstring injury he suffered yesterday.
The draw saw United moved seven clear of rivals Arsenal, however the North
London side have four games in hand. They host FA Cup Final opponents
Newcastle today. 


 

PSV chase Stam replacement «« 
Reports from Holland on Saturday claim PSV Eindhoven's incoming manager
Bobby Robson has already earmarked a replacement for Jaap Stam who he
believes will leave Dutch football this summer.
Robson, still contracted to Barcelona, has identified Real Oviedo's
defender Abel Xavier as the man to take to his new club when Stam is sold.


Stam: Abel replacement
 
The Reds appear to be the sole serious contenders for the Dutchman's
signature which they hope can be completed within the next two weeks.
Stam has told PSV he will waive the 15 per cent loyalty clause which could
have netted him £2 million after the transfer in order to come to Old
Trafford.
The Reds are offering a five year contract to the 25-year-old which would
earn him £1 million-a-season before bonuses.
 

Earlier reports of Jordi Cruyff being offered as part of the package to get
Stam have not been confirmed although it is thought his name has cropped up
in discussions.
Interestingly, however, a trip to the Old Trafford megastore tells a
different story.
All the Cruyff T-shirt merchandise has been reduced in the sale, reminding
fans of the first signs Lee Sharpe was on his way out of the club.


 

No complaints from Owen «« 
Liverpool's teenage striker Michael Owen had no complaints after he was
sent-off for two yellow cards in yesterday's Premiership clash against United.
Owen went in late on keeper Peter Schmeichel to pick up his first booking.
He then put Liverpool on level terms with a goal in the 36th minute,
cancelling out Ronny Johnsen's 12th minute opener, before a late challenge
on Johnsen meant an early bath for the 18-year-old.
But Owen agreed with the referee's decision, he said: "The referee was
right to send me off, but there was no bad intent in either of the
challenges."
Liverpool boss Roy Evans put the sending-off down to 'over enthusiasm' and
preferred to concentrate on the good points of the match. He said: "He's
disappointed to let the team down but I'm very proud of the way we came
back." 
United manager Alex Ferguson was in less forgiving mood, especially with
the tackle which could have put an end to Johnsen's season, describing it
as 'terrible'. 


A Manchester United is for life, not just for christmas.
---------------------------------------------------------
JacKiT@indigo.ie

---------------------------------------------------------
If tomorrow was today, it would be yesterday.




Date:         Sat, 11 Apr 1998 04:05:51 -0400
Reply-To: "Manchester United Football Club (soccer)"
              
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From: Sean Hennessey 
Subject:    Life in hell (an extremely long 'match report')
Comments: To: RED-DEVILS@PIPELINE.COM
To: MUFC@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU

Hallo,

Recently a number of people have asked for match reports from different
perspectives, and I thought that I might use this as an excuse to show
what life as Red, for those of us lucky enough to be in an area where
matches are shown, from the other side of the pond is like (or somewhat)
in a Linda-esq way.

Todays match started for me on Wednesday, when one of the Boston Reds
posted a message to our list asking what the plans were for meeting for
the match were.  We knew from Setanta (for you non-USA Reds, the sad
b*stards that charge us a tenner to see a match live, on telly, regardless
of picture quality) that the match was to be shown live at 12pm here, not
neccessarily the most, erm, 'user-friendly' time to those of us with day
jobs.  Fortunately for us, a couple of places will tape the match to show
us sad ones after the fact, which is a god-send for us, the poor and the
over-employed ;), and I've always taken it upon myself, as president of
the Boston Reds, to find out the replay times, in order to find the best
time for us to meet in our strongest quantities.

For me, life was going well from the result on Monday, and I immediately
started calls to our local, the Plough, the pub we've decided on
democratically as our home (due mainly to the true Red owner) to find out
the vague idea of the showing schedule.  As we on this side tend to do in
this situation, we would plan on avoiding the lists and any other source
of information, in order to see the match as 'live' to us.  Unfortunately,
this being an odd day and time match for us, they had no idea that early,
and things went down from there.  That same night, that I was so desperate
to organise somewhat of a meet for us, I met with my pop band, Slippy
Keane (yes, we named it after Roy), and I quit it.  Musical differences.
This sent me into a tail spin, and United was (as usual) my only place to
turn to, so I spent Thursday, home sick from work, trying to get further
information about the match from our local, in order to spread the word
amongst the lads.  I knew that a number of us, the students, were planning
on attending the live showing (and shelling out the tenner), and that one
of us, a born and bred Mancunian, was going to be back home for the
holidays, but I was desperate to find a time that at least a few of us
could meet and sing at the tape, confident that our recent 'tradition'
against the fools would hold true.  Not to be, immediately.

I called, for the upteenth time, only to be told that the replays would be
based on the Bartender of the day, and that I should call back on the day
to find out.  Not a wonderful situation when you're trying to get a bunch
of lads together for a meet...

And so we came to Friday.  I had already spoken with my rather wonderful
boss, and told him that I would be leaving early on the day for the match
(he vaguely understood having a flatmate that's a Spurs fan) a week
earlier, and showed up for work an hour and a half early so that my loss
of hours wouldn't be that bad.  I started calls from my desk to the Plough
around 11am, desperate to get some news early enough to try and get word
out to the lads in time to get at least some of us together.  No answer.
I'm virtually in tears when I finally get through at 12.05, five minutes
after kick off and I'm still risking learning news of the match to stay on
line and get word out to get some of us together.  After a number of
attempts, I get through only to be told that they don't know what time
they would do an 'after working hours' replay, but that there would be one
definitely at 3.30pm, and I'd have to call the later bartender to find out
the time of a later replay.  The c*nt then hung up on me when I tried to
ask when his replacement would be there, and I couldn't trust that there
would be another.  I had told my co-workers that I would leave *at
earliest* at 3.30 in order to be there comfortably for the, odd but
traditional, 5pm replay. Now I had to make the rounds and say I was
leaving even earlier.

I have to take a second to let you know what it's like to be a football
fan, let alone a United fanatic, in this country of, well, idiots.  When
they come to my cubicle, complete with championship photos, in the stead
of family and friends, of Cantona, Cole and Keane, Beckham in full flight,
with a scarf up for extra measure (the Pride of the North version, Keano
is the backround on my computer screen, and it starts up to 'Glory Glory
Man United, and closes to 'Andy Cole Andy Cole'), they treate me as mad.
I've a long standing traditon that, as a computer tech, I have the right
to man the help desk when United is playing, not shown here, but on Real
Audio, so that I can listen.  They're almost used to seeing me jump up and
screaming 'Yes' when we score, and laugh whole heartedly at me when I cry
at a loss.  Only the one Juventus fan and the Latin-American understand
where I'm coming from.  The rest call me a 'faux-British' wannabe, and
tell me how dull soccer is compared to what they watch.  I give all credit
to the Boston Red Sox fanatic who at least attempts to understand what I
feel...

Back to the story, somehow, after having called in sick the day before, I
had to go to the boss, and my co-workers, and tell them that I was
deserting them in order to make the match.  By this point, I'd given up on
trying to get any of the Boston Reds together to watch the thing with me,
and I was just going on my record of not having missed, regardless of
work, band comittments, whatever, a single shown match in nearly a season
and a half, and had to go.  I rushed, single handly f*cking up a system
rebuild, to get out by 3.  A solid 3 hours earlier than my shift was to
end.

I thought I'd done it, got magic transfers on the train out of Boston, up
north to Cambridge, specifically Central Square, to get to the Plough only
to get on an express train going past it to Harvard.  From there I trusted
no-one, and legged it back south to the pub, getting there just 5 minutes
after the replay was to start, happily ignorant of the result and prepared
to sing to the video tape like it was live.  My stomach was eating itself
alive, and I was prepared to go it alone without my normal cusion of
Boston Reds to keep me sane.

Once there, I ordered my normal Boddingtons.  The same bartender that was
so rude to me on the phone (as if I don't spend enough on pints there on
match days) told me that there would be no replay.  Their signal wasn't
good enough to bother, but he was 'nice enough' not to tell me the result
if I wanted to find another place to watch the match.  The owner of the
pub, the true Red I mentioned before, said hallo, but wouldn't look me in
the eye.  I think he knew what I'd run from just to be there.  I drank the
Boddies faster than any one I'd ever had, and legged it out to a public
phone to call the Embassy, another pub that shows the matches, when they
would show a replay.  7.30pm.  Somehow I managed to kill the time
(actually by going to the World Soccer Shop here to see if the new Goal
was in and harrassing a large bookshop to see if the copy of Fergie's last
year diary that I'd ordered from them four months ago was in), and ended
up at the Embassy, back in Boston, about forty-five minutes before their
scheduled replay, still ignorant of anything like the result. And so I sat
there, reading an old issue of 4-4-2, drinking even more Boddingtons (at
least this time on tap), and shitting myself (not to mention crossing
myself constantly, in reverance to us and Good Friday)

Half seven came and went, and still the match wasn't being shown, and the
dj, who was playing that night, started dismantling the area I was sitting
in (close by the tellies), when I finally assaulted the bartender and
begged him to show the match.  He relented, though leaving the sound
off, and here's what I saw:

The first half I thought we played, well, alright.  After all the pints,
and all the frustration, it's hard for me to be specific, but I thought
that the first half was incredibly worrying.  Our goal from the corner was
amazing (god bless Johnsen), but we gave up way too much possession of the
ball.  I was gutted when the fools equalised.  I had thought that we'd
make the half ahead, but the ball (off of one of our's head as well), went
forward, and I screamed at Schmikes for running forward.  From there it
went slow motion for me, and I saw the ball go through.

If you think it's difficult being a Red in a nation of f*cking ABU's, I
have to tell you that it's not that much easier here.  When United is
playing, the scum come out of the woodwork, and, each of them recognisable
to me by now, and all of them, with no discernable side that they support,
scream 'Come On (insert whomever is playing against us)'.  One of the
worst was sitting right next to me, and you'll have to forgive me for a)
nearly asking him to step outside, and b) as the match went on (and he
started chanting 'Arsenal Arsenal'), for nearly glassing him (my
frustrations and his nasal tone where winding me to no end), but you'll be
proud to know that from our corner (me), the songs 'F*ck McManaman',
'Glory Glory Man United', 'Fergie's Army' were heard, and I held my ground
(despite the numerous looks of anger, I'm sure I wound them up more than
the match did).

I came the nearest I'll ever get to doubting Fergie when Giggs was removed
to bring in Thornley (who, well, dissapeared, from what I could tell,
short of his overly high shot on goal), please tell me that that wasn't
the injury coming back. After that, I will have to say that it was simply
beautiful to see Owen sent off with his second yellow card of the match
for his stupid attempt at a tackle on Johnsen (which also led to him
leaving the match, making way for May, and a nasty gut wrench thinking of
him possibly being out injured now).

The second half saw us trying even harder, and I was quite cheered to see
Sheringham warming up on the side, though I was panicked that they would
take off Scholes to let him in.  I admit that I let out a massive sigh of
relief when Phil Neville went off (I'm still not sure why he was in
midfield to start, though I may be mistaken, when Berg could of played and
have put Johnsen in midfield), to send Scholes back and have Sherrie in
front.

Honestly, Liverpool never looked like scoring again (to me) and seemed
settled on getting the draw, and we wasted chance after chance taking too
much time setting up shots on goal (Scholes getting a number, all of
which, his and others, going wide, though the one of his just barely).  In
the end I thought that (despite the fool's goal), the defence played
fairly well, Beckham had a decent match (with Posh watching along with her
sad scouse bandmate along side of her (ok, I'll be the sad one to admit it
that Posh looks dead nice with the new hair cut)), Scholes got stuck in as
well he could, and Coley, god bless him, tracked back and played really
well.  We had chance after chance on goal in the end, and I almost felt
(crossing myself the whole way, I have to stop that, maybe I jinxed it,
even if my match was well after the fact) that it was a matter of time
before we got lucky and one went in.

As for Ince, btw, he was an out and out whinger and deserved all the boo's
I gave him (and I can only imagine, with no sound, he got in true life as
well).  My biggest worries of the match were for Schmikes, who seemed to
abondon the old, mile long, clearance kicks, for a time, and I hope it
wasn't due to a re-occurance of the injury as well.  The man had a match
of it, though, and he played admirably, even though I thought he came out
a bit too early on the daft fools goal.

My man of the match, well, personal preferance (I'm sadly biased, he's my
lad:) would point to Scholes, who had shot after shot in, even if wide,
and his one shot that was barely inches wide, was a magnificent attempt.
I have to give credit to Becks for fighting under pressure and making some
great crosses as well.  True acclaim to Gary Neville, as well, for being
brilliant.  Once again, we didn't end up playing like champions, but
fought like them for some time.

The end result though, I'm gutted.  I know that some of you are going to
say that we've handed the Championship to the f*cking Arse, but I'll hold
absolute judgement until the b*stards play their two matches tomorrow and
Monday.  It looks bad, but it's not over, and I don't know.  I'm still
gutted.

To end the report, I had to meet up with the members of my now ex-band
(who are by now well used to me being manic or depressive depending on the
result (the girlfriend of the drummer actually asked if it was safe to
talk to me)) in order to go see a band made up of members of a previous
band of mine, the manager of whom is a 'Fools supporter' from Ireland,
who calls me a gloryhunter but cannot name a member of their squad let
alone their position in the Premiership, and can never wait to take the
piss out of me for being a Red.  Let it suffice to say that I had to ask
one of my friends to tell her to give me a wide berth, otherwise I might
explode out of frustration and say what I really think of her
'supporting'.  I drank myself into oblivion, came home, couldn't bring
myself to update the Boston Reds webpage, and composed this...

Honestly, this isn't a fully true representations of what a match is like
for us (usually it's am early replay, in a full house, with a number of us
together against the ABUs, in a cracking atmosphere for a dive so far away
from our spiritual home).  In the end, it's an overly long, overly
gutting, story of what this match meant to me, and what it did to me.
But, beyond all that, I still will sing Glory Glory Man United.
Regardless of what might come, these boys own our hearts, and we will do
our all to support them!

cheers - Sean Hennessey, president of the Boston Reds.

This message copyright 1997/98 Sean Hennessey.  All rights reserved.
*******************************************************************************
Sean Hennessey, President of the Boston Reds,
an 'unoffical' Manchester United Supporters' Club
url: http://members.tripod.com/~boston_reds/red_army.html
email: suggs@tiac.net, ICQ#: 9288628




X-Lotus-Fromdomain: HTLUK
Date:         Fri, 10 Apr 1998 07:43:32 +0100
Reply-To: "Manchester United Football Club (soccer)"
              
Sender: "Manchester United Football Club (soccer)"
              
From: Jon Kerr 
Subject:   Jaap Stam
Comments: To: red-devils@pipeline.com
To: MUFC@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU
To:   red-devils@pipeline.com
cc:   mufc@listserv.indiana.edu

Subject:  Jaap Stam

Reds

A report today suggested that a 9Mil offer had fallen through
after Fartin Martin had haggled for 90 minutes with PSV officials
for the defender due to their president stating Eindhoven would
not except anything less than 11.5Mil. However if the report
is true Stam himself has stepped in and offered to take a
15% transfer cut in his contract..... saving UTD 2Mil on the
package.

Stam 25, admitted "United are the club of my dreams. I
have never made any secret of that. It would be a fairytale
to join them."

If all this is true I would suggest this is exactly the type of
player we want at OT........a player who desires to play for United
as opposed to a foreigner  wishing to line his already well full wallet
!!!!

Jon
Red to the core




Keep The Faith -- barry@www.red11.org -- Red Til We're Dead
    
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