I cried like a baby reading this

Top work m14.

That stuff at this link---http://www.joinmust.org/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=50

------------------why has Edwards got off so lighlty ?

To me the Edwards family are much worse than the Glazers.

Great but very sad read

Originally Posted by Dueling Banjos

Very emotional read. Thanks for putting it up.

The book The Lost Babes arrived the other day and I glanced through it last night and could feel myself filling up at times. That's going to be another emotional read.

I've had it for a while but only just started reading it. Very good read so far.

Brilliant

Originally Posted by redloner

There's a whole forum of Tom's stuff on the iMUST site.

http://www.joinmust.org/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=50

Indeed, I've read most of it two or three times.

The Duncan Edwards one is a must-read. You ask yourself "can he really have been that good?"...but no matter whose reminiscences you read, they all say much the same thing.



He's a good writer is Tom Clare, tells the story wonderfully. That article about Munich should have national exposure in the next couple of weeks, perhaps it might make one or two morons understand that celebrating (and I think that is the correct word) the babes is not done through mawkish sentimentality, but - in the main* - purely down to respect for a football team (not to mention a large section of what was, at the time, the very best of the British sporting press writers) who captured the imagination not only of Manchester's populace, but that of the nation.





* Wrong thread to mention this really, but once again we're back to the bugbear of certain things appearing on something which is about remembrance, not promotional marketing. Apologies for bringing it up, but it is pertinent, sadly.

Magnificent.

My dad was fifteen at the time of the crash and so I've heard first hand about The Babes and what is was like when the news broke. As so many do, he maintains that Edwards would have been the greatest ever. The image of him in the lineup in Belgrade is frightening - the man was built like no footballer I've seen. Of course, Edwards was just one of the many lives lost. My dad also often tells me a particular highlight of his time following United when we played in the FA Cup shortly after the crash and he ran on the pitch and hugged Bobby Charlton after he scored. Must have been pretty amazing.

I'm just gutted that we have to rely on the divs to behave.

Not going to happen.

Originally Posted by magic_cantona

I'm just gutted that we have to rely on the divs to behave.

Not going to happen.

It isn't, and I'm glad.

Let the @#%&!s show themselves up for the utter @#%&!s that they are, and let the whole world watch and see it for themselves. Then kick £#%&! out of them on the forecourt afterwards.

One of the best thing ever posted on this forum and its at two pages. Says a lot about many on here. Sorry for introducing something like that to this thread but it speaks volumes. A beautifully written piece. MUFC.

Did you know Duncan Edwards Dad, I mean really really know?
It’s just you’ve kept so many cuttings from all those years ago.
And were the babes the greatest, the greatest ever team?
Or just enshrined here in this history, just a bygone boyhood dream.
Now I know you idolised them Dad, you gave each one their own page,
the pictures are well faded now, but I suppose that comes with age.

Dad, did Tommy Taylor really head a ball against the bar,
which Harry Gregg collected, it had rebounded back so far?
And was Duncan Edwards really, the greatest of them all,
with silken skills and feathery touch, thirteen stone and six foot tall?
Now there’s a contradiction surely Dad, but I’m going to let it pass,
but Billy Whelan must have played once, without first going to Mass.
And was Harry Gregg a goalkeeper supreme?
Were Eddie Coleman’s hazy runs like red blurs on swards of green?
And Dad can you explain to me how it ever came to pass,
that Roger Byrne, just five foot nine, covered every blade of glass?
Or how David Pegg whose swerving runs, like a scorpion you said,
always struck the ball with venom, yet left no one for dead?
Or how it was that big Mark Jones could soar into the sky,
yet still patrol his area, so that nobody got by?

Then there’s the team of Sixty Eight, and Dad I’d like to know,
how George Best was always missing, yet played five hundred games or so?
And how was it Bobby Charlton, who played so many vital roles,
could be both a great goalscorer and a scorer of great goals?
Or how Denis Law had chipped a ball from forty yards or more,
it came back off the crossbar, and yet Law was there to sc ore?
What use was it that Pat Crerand could split defences with one pass,
when the ball only ever landed on a sixpence on the grass?
And was Stepney’s save at Wembley, the best you’ve ever seen,
or was it just that it resulted in the fulfilment of a dream?
So now to Matt Busby, or Sir Matt as he’s now known,
from a mining town in Scotland, yet still one of our own?
Then finally there’s the Munich clock, the disaster time still shown.
why do people say that they never intended coming home?

The boy looked up with pleading eyes, and his father gently said.
There’s a lifetime of old memories in the scrapbook you’ve just read.
And of course there is some fiction, most fact, some strange yet true,
that’s what makes players into legends, now I’ve passed them on to you.
Those pictures may be faded son, but I can see them all so clear,
as if it were just yesterday, and I hold each memory dear.
Now I’ve passed this scrapbook on to you, to treasure for all time,
And you too will find your heroes and build to them a shrine,
and you’ll add your bits of fiction, but don’t worry son that’s fine,
to make legends of your heroes and then place them alongside mine.
And you’ll understand in years to come, as you watch great United teams,
why it is we call Old Trafford, The Theatre of Dreams.

When United bleeds, we all bleed. We can disagree with each other, curse each other, fight with each other, but at the end of the day, we all agree on one thing - THERE'S ONLY ONE UNITED!

i never find the things to say on the subject as a whole..........

I'm not one for words spoken or definately written......

As always a brilliant piece.....

Thanks for posting.

Thanks for posting that, only just got round to reading it. Truly incredible.

Originally Posted by RedOx

Thanks for posting that, only just got round to reading it. Truly incredible.

No worries Oxy

Got this off RI. Lad said his dad wrote it after Matt died. Had me welling up again. Its been an emotional week:


wrote this shortly after Matt Busby died in 1994, have a read and let me know what you think. Thanks.

Did you know Duncan Edwards Dad?


Did you know Duncan Edwards Dad, I mean really really know?
It’s just you’ve kept so many cuttings from all those years ago.
And were the babes the greatest, the greatest ever team?
Or just enshrined here in this history, just a bygone boyhood dream.
Now I know you idolised them Dad, you gave each one their own page,
the pictures are well faded now, but I suppose that comes with age.

Dad, did Tommy Taylor really head a ball against the bar,
which Harry Gregg collected, it had rebounded back so far?
And was Duncan Edwards really, the greatest of them all,
with silken skills and feathery touch, thirteen stone and six foot tall?
Now there’s a contradiction surely Dad, but I’m going to let it pass,
but Billy Whelan must have played once, without first going to Mass.
And was Harry Gregg a goalkeeper supreme?
Were Eddie Coleman’s hazy runs like red blurs on swards of green?
And Dad can you explain to me how it ever came to pass,
that Roger Byrne, just five foot nine, covered every blade of glass?
Or how David Pegg whose swerving runs, like a scorpion you said,
always struck the ball with venom, yet left no one for dead?
Or how it was that big Mark Jones could soar into the sky,
yet still patrol his area, so that nobody got by?

Then there’s the team of Sixty Eight, and Dad I’d like to know,
how George Best was always missing, yet played five hundred games or so?
And how was it Bobby Charlton, who played so many vital roles,
could be both a great goalscorer and a scorer of great goals?
Or how Denis Law had chipped a ball from forty yards or more,
it came back off the crossbar, and yet Law was there to sc ore?
What use was it that Pat Crerand could split defences with one pass,
when the ball only ever landed on a sixpence on the grass?
And was Stepney’s save at Wembley, the best you’ve ever seen,
or was it just that it resulted in the fulfilment of a dream?
So now to Matt Busby, or Sir Matt as he’s now known,
from a mining town in Scotland, yet still one of our own?
Then finally there’s the Munich clock, the disaster time still shown.
why do people say that they never intended coming home?

The boy looked up with pleading eyes, and his father gently said.
There’s a lifetime of old memories in the scrapbook you’ve just read.
And of course there is some fiction, most fact, some strange yet true,
that’s what makes players into legends, now I’ve passed them on to you.
Those pictures may be faded son, but I can see them all so clear,
as if it were just yesterday, and I hold each memory dear.
Now I’ve passed this scrapbook on to you, to treasure for all time,
And you too will find your heroes and build to them a shrine,
and you’ll add your bits of fiction, but don’t worry son that’s fine,
to make legends of your heroes and then place them alongside mine.
And you’ll understand in years to come, as you watch great United teams,
why it is we call Old Trafford, The Theatre of Dreams.

bump