AN OLD MAN'S TEARS

AN OLD MAN'S TEARS

The old man sits in his office and lights up his pipe. It is a sparse room, only a telephone that never rings and a notepad adorn his table. He still makes the journey every day. On the Old Trafford forecourt people politely wave and offer to shake his hand. They still realise his importance and appreciate the sheer magnitude of what he achieved for their club. Even if those who now ran United would rather he just went away. However there was one on the inside who valued the old man's opinion more than any other.

The Scotsman seeks out the old man for advice and to discover the real United.
'This place is sick son.
It needs drastic surgery, a new heart and that is you.
Nobody asks my opinion anymore. Sir Robert apart that is, but he is a good lad. Cares deeply about the club. This thing of ours....United.
Old Trafford is sprinkled with gold dust. You can't see it but it is there.
It is a great healer. It helped me.
After Munich I didn't want to know anyone or anything. My family, football, nothing.
All I cared about had been taken away from me on that German runway.
I should have perished son, my body was crushed. My spirit broken.
I was given the last rites, live or die I never cared.
Made ready to enter heaven whilst I was suffering hell here on earth.
But somehow, I don't and will never know why, God spared me.
Then I became angry, outraged at this undeserved act of mercy.
Why me?
Eight of my boys and so many good pals had suffered such a cruel fate and yet I survived?
In time I returned to Manchester but all my boys were long buried.
I missed the funerals, small mercies. Jimmy went to everyone, dark clouds over the rainy city son. Rained tears. Jimmy kept our flag flying. Only he could have done that. Kept United alive did Jimmy, fought tooth and nail when others were convinced our time had gone.
So sad that we don't speak now. That's the dark side of football. Sometimes friendships fall by the wayside because you are too stubborn to realise their importance. Only when it is too late does the sadness strike home at what you lost.
But you speak to him, a wise man, great man. We were like brothers once. You remind me of him son. Fire and passion, lives for the game............this thing of ours.
Once back at Old Trafford when sat in my office, on quiet days I could still hear their voices echoing down corridors. Distant laughter, the rattle of football boots on concrete. I still hear them now.
Big Duncan, Eddie Coleman, Tommy Taylor. My boys. They died in pursuit of a dream. My dream
Unfinished business son. The European cup.
That inspired me to ignore the pain and nightmares and concentrate on winning that trophy.
And we did it ten years on, we did it!
Such relief son...........end of a rainbow.
We had a party afterwards and invited all the families of those who died at Munich
I sang 'It's a wonderful world' with tears in my eyes. I thought of my lost boys, imagined their faces. It was a strange evening. Tinged with the atmosphere of a boisterous Irish wake. I raised a toast, many toasts in their name and for that one night the sadness eased.
Though come the dawn as my head cleared it returned.
The real United son, it will show itself.
Strange and magical things happen here. We have always taken the tough path to success, but this only makes the journey more exciting. United never know when they are beaten. Constantly surprising, overcoming insurmountable odds. Never give up son, fight your corner and always be bold.
That is the real United
Look for players with hunger in their eyes, good temperament , but most importantly who can play. Get them raw, mould them, ferment your own apples son. Clear out the bad ones. The city is blessed with boys who would give everything for this club. Find them. Bring them through together.
It will take time, years even but they will show themselves. And as they take flight the European cup will again come into our sights.
There is an inner strength in you son, you are the one.
My door is always open, you must feel free anytime to bend my ear.
Now you bring it back!
This thing of ours................the real United'.