He (Ruud van Nistelrooy) is a striker who can score upwards of 20 goals a season and there are not many of those going around.
So why are we selling him them ?
Let's wait and see if Saha, Rossi, Ronaldo and Ole manage more than 20 goals (between them).
Doug's post about early memories of attending football matches got me thinking.
Years ago, I was a LMTB (League Match Ticket Book) holder at Manchester United and went to every home game at Old Trafford. An LMTB was similar to a season ticket but only entitled the holder to attend League Matches with no priority for FA Cup tickets.
Consequently, whenever United got to the latter stages of the FA Cup, there was a black market in the Manchester Evening News for the little numbered tokens that were printed in the matchday program. You needed a large number of tokens (including reserve games) to get a ticket.
However, my father was a bank manager and then, as now, the majority of tickets for big football matches went to corporate hospitality rather then the true fans.
So, on Saturday April 3 1976, on a beautiful sunny day, my Dad and I crossed the Pennines to see United play Derby in the FA Cup Semi Final at Hillsborough.
The tickets had 'Exeter FC' imprinted on the back and we were in the wrong end (Spion Kop) and all the United fans were at Leppings Lane but none of that mattered. I was so excited and nervous, I could barely converse properly.
We got into the ground early to watch the ground slowly fill up, soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the fans taunting each other. Inevitably, there were pockets of United fans scattered on the massive, steep terrace at Hillsborough.
United had a young team, managed by Tommy Docherty and were riding high in their first year back in Division 1 after promotion and Derby were the reigning champions.
Gerry Daly gave United the lead in the first half but my main abiding memory of this game was late in the second half when United were awarded a free-kick at our end. Gordon Hill stepped up and produced a swerving, curling free-kick past the despairing hands of the Derby keeper into the corner. 2-0 to United ! The ground exploded, the noise was unbelievable and the whole stadium was a moving sea of red and white.
When the game ended, United fans invaded the pitch to celebrate. Inevitably, a significant minority came to the Kop end to taunt the Derby fans. Some Derby fans responded and joined them on the pitch and the press carried pictures of the resulting 'ugly scenes'. I can vividly remember trying to leave the ground and taking refuge in a concrete backwater as United fans started to get onto the Kop terrace and most peace loving supporters desperately tried to get away from the chaos.
All in all, a fantastic day out.
In April 2002, I got off my barstool and actually went to see a Manchester United game. The fixture was at Upton Park and I was in the Bobby Moore stand as I was the guest of a West Ham member.
United won an very entertaining game 5-3 and Beckham scored a fantastic goal (lob from outside the box). All of this made it very hard to keep my mouth shut.
Ironically, I was stood (sorry - sitting) just 10 yards from the away support and enjoyed all the chants and banter between the two sets of supporters.
Depending on the score and the mood, the West Ham fans usually replied to the United chants with some witty retort, hurled some abuse or just stood in silence.
Interestingly, the chant that provoked by far the biggest reaction was when United chanted 'Argentina, Argentina' at the England (sorry - West Ham) supporters.
In response to Chelsea's recent acquisition of Michael Ballack and continued pursuit of Schevchenko, Manchester United are widening the search for a world class striker to replace Ruud van Nistelrooy.
Damn. We so nearly got him.
The Mayor of Liverpool announced that there would a extraordinary 5 minute silence held across the city tomorrow at 12 noon.
A special religious service will be held at the Anglican Cathedral and the two remaining Beatles will reunite and record a special version of '(Please) Let It Be (disallowed)'.
Robbie Fowler will indicate the start and end of the silence by holding up five fingers. This is the number of European Cups that Robbie Fowler has watched Liverpool win on TV.
Guests of honour at the service will be Boris Johnson, Phil Neville and his father, Neville Neville.
Counselling will be available in job centres across Liverpool for those affected by the tragic events at Old Trafford on Sunday afternoon.
Elsewhere in Manchester, people will not be bleating, moaning and endlessly complaining about being taunted by Robbie Fowler holding up various numbers of fingers to the away section in their recent 3-1 defeat at the Council House.
If you give it, be prepared to take it.
I am fortunate that my job takes me to lots of exotic locations (Prague, Bergen, Amsterdam, Munich, Oslo, Nice, Paris) and now, err, West Bromwich.
The last time I was here was in October 1981 when I attended a game at The Hawthorns between West Bromwich Albion and Manchester United. The game got underway and the United fans started a chant:
Oh I do like to be beside the seaside
Oh I do like to be beside the sea
Oh I do like to walk along the prom, prom, prom
And say, GO HOME West Brom
Only, 'Go Home' was substituted for a different, more colourful phrase in the English vernacular to the same effect.
Anyway, as the game was pretty uneventful, the United fans kept repeating the last line ad infinitum which was quite funny.
Next thing I knew, a policeman grabbed hold of me and my mate and escorted us both down the steps to the pitch, through a gate and led us away.
I was stunned into silence but my mate was more vociferous repeatedly asking 'What had we done ?'. This was understandable as he was a Brighton fan who had just come along for something to do and wasn't even singing.
We got led away alongside the pitch, past the United fans who applauded us (for some odd reason) and were taken to the police control room. The copper asked us for ID and took our names. He then cautioned us. We protested that we had done nothing and weren't even singing the obscene chant.
To my amazement, the copper said 'Yeah. I know but we had to do something to quieten things down'
Then I realised that we had been ejected from a football match because we happened to be standing adjacent to an aisle (easy access for the coppers without having to pull us from the middle which might provoke more trouble), the coppers knew we were together as a pair (and not in a larger group) and precisely because we were not the types to be cause trouble.
We were then kicked out into Handsworth Road where youths were lobbing stones into the United section and the copper warned us 'Listen. You've been cautioned. But if you enter the ground again and I see you, you will be arrested'.
So we ran the gauntlet of stones back to the station. As we did so, inevitably we heard loud cheering from the away end.
We got home and were soon safely wrapped up in our beds back in the pub, drinking hard, regaling our friends with the anecdote in the pub as we learned the final score. 3-0 to United.
The Glazer takeover was not the end of an era. Manchester United is a PLC not a football club.
The departure of Roy Keane was not the end of an era. Players (even great ones) come and players go.
The death of George Best was not the end of an era. Death and taxes.
However, last night's 2-1 defeat to Benfica in Lisbon just might be.
Not a brilliant week if you are a United fan...
A few years ago, I was drinking in the Chelsea Potter on the Kings Road and a mate said That's George Best sitting over there. I replied 'Yeah, right'. I looked across to the bar and saw a plump, bearded figure sitting on a barstool, clad in a hideous blue shell-suit, sipping a Coke. I was stupefied. After a while, he finished his drink and left. I was still gawping at him like a lovestruck teenager and I swore he smiled at me on his way out.
Thanks for all the memories, George. RIP.
So, you can now buy the program for last Sunday's Manchester United game against Chelsea in WH Smiths.
I used to go to Old Trafford every fortnight in the late 70s and 80s (Stretford Paddock, Stretford End, United Road). Part of the experience was travelling there, getting to the ground early, securing your position on a barrier, reading the program, the atmosphere building, the smell of pies and bovril, the chanting, the opposition fans, the players warming up, the tension, the goals, the celebrations, the moaning, everything.
Then I moved away from Manchester and was relegated to a barstool correspondent and finally a slave to Sky Sports in my armchair. Still, at least now, I can read the program a full week after the game has finished.