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Still Not Worthy Of A Thread


joeyt

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Pretty sure it's alright to post that here (Its an Official channel). But British Pathé have uploaded dozens of classic clips from the 20's through to the 50's; recommend checking it it out.

 

Perhaps it's just me and my age, but every time I see one of these things, I'm waiting for Mr Cholmondley-Warner to appear.

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Look at all those people, all that joy. I bet they were devastated when the accounts came out and everyone realised we didn't bring in enough money for winning it.

 

We finished 8th that year, Ashley would be wanking in to a sock.

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Look at all those people, all that joy. I bet they were devastated when the accounts came out and everyone realised we didn't bring in enough money for winning it.

 

We finished 8th that year, Ashley would be wanking in to a sock.

 

Nah he'd have had to pay for cup final suits, transport and hotels. He'd be fucking livid.

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Look at all those people, all that joy. I bet they were devastated when the accounts came out and everyone realised we didn't bring in enough money for winning it.

 

We finished 8th that year, Ashley would be wanking in to a sock.

 

Nah he'd have had to pay for cup final suits, transport and hotels. He'd be fucking livid.

]

 

he paid for the mackems suits tbf :lol:

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Guest neesy111

Watching that video makes me livid about the club nowadays.  Should be a moral duty for football clubs try to do everything possible to bring success to their fans.

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Hmmmm.

 

Possession stats placed handily to the top left of your Champ-Man-O-Vision specs, or the start of the end of of a free and critically aware society?

 

The pervasive creep of the outsourced mind, sucking self responsibility into the cloud.

 

The death knell of humanity.

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Has anybody posted this extract from Pirlo's book yet? I have to buy it :lol:

 

http://www.theguardian.com/football/2014/apr/15/andrea-pirlo-pep-guardiola-tried-to-sign-me-barcelona-autobiography

 

Andrea Pirlo: the night Pep Guardiola tried to sign me for Barcelona

After the wheel, the PlayStation is the best invention of all time. And ever since it's existed, I've been Barcelona, apart from a brief spell way back at the start when I'd go Milan.

 

I can't say with any certainty how many virtual matches I've played over the last few years but, roughly speaking, it must be at least four times the number of real ones.

 

Pirlo v Nesta was a classic duel back in our Milanello days. We'd get in early, have breakfast at 9am and then shut ourselves in our room and hit the PlayStation until 11. Training would follow, then we'd be back on the computer games until four in the afternoon. Truly a life of sacrifice.

 

Our head-to-heads were pure adrenaline. I'd go Barcelona and so would Sandro. Barça v Barça. The first player I'd pick was the quickest one, Samuel Eto'o, but I'd still end up losing a lot of the time. I'd get pissed off and hurl away my controller before asking Sandro for a rematch. And then I'd lose again.

 

It's not like I could use the excuse that his coach was better than mine: it was Pep Guardiola for him and Pep Guardiola for me. At least in terms of our manager we set out on a level footing.

 

One day we thought about kidnapping him. The flesh and bones, real-life version that is. It was August 25, 2010, and we were with Milan at the Nou Camp for the Gamper pre-season tournament. We thought better of our hostage-taking in the end. To avoid constantly falling out, we'd have needed to saw him in two when we got back to Italy, and that wouldn't have been a good idea. How the poor thing would have suffered.

 

As it transpired, the notion of abduction had crossed Guardiola's mind before ours. That very night at the Nou Camp, he whisked me away from my nearest and dearest. Looking back, perhaps those people weren't actually as close to me as I thought but, anyway, on with the story.

 

At the end of the game, everyone was on the trail of Zlatan Ibrahimovic, a ticking timebomb of a madman who had been wound up by his agent (the legendary Mino Raiola). The Swede was set on a collision course with Barcelona and on the verge of signing for Milan. A few of my team-mates sought him out to try to encourage him to make the switch, while some of his friends from Barcelona were also on his case, armed with the opposite recommendation. And then there were the journalists, looking to force a few words from him, which didn't exactly take them long.

 

"I'd love to play at San Siro in the same team as Ronaldinho," he said. "The coach here doesn't even talk to me. In the last six months, he's spoken to me twice."

 

There was no mystery in that – Guardiola was saving his words for me. Taking advantage of the spotlight being momentarily trained not on him but Ibrahimovic, he invited me into his office.As I came out of the dressing room, I'd noticed one of his childhood friends and trusted lieutenants waiting there for me. His task that night had turned him into a flip-flop wearing secret agent, but Manel Estiarte in a previous life had been the best water polo player of all time. Only the second man in history capable of walking on water.

 

"Andrea, come with me. The coach wants to meet you."

 

I struggled to recognise him without his swimming cap but then I looked at him again and got a whiff of chlorine.

 

"OK then, vamos."

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