As with all football teams players have come and gone: some becoming legends for the right reasons; some legends for the wrong reasons; some easily forgotten; some retired injured; some retired through age; some retired through marriage and children, some play on.
As we enter our third decade our squad has never looked stronger (actually it has, and on many occasions but for now you work with what you’ve got, I think they call it a transition stage):
Presently playing for the Whites
- Jono – founding father, treasurer and CEO, full back, gentle and unflappable soul, calm personified and peace maker. Unitedite.
- Scouse Steve – our very own Sammy Lee, always gets the ball in the tackle…or so he says. Liverpool
- Paddy – bringing a dash of Irish charm to the party, the gentleman amongst us, always gets the ball in the tackle…or so he he says. Liverpool
- Big John – Rugby league player and tackles like one too, man mountain and always gets the ball…or so he says. Manchester United
- Leeds Rob – never let him keep score, goals scored may go up as well as go down. Always gets the ball in the tackle…or so he says. Leeds United
- Little Joe – the poster boy of the team, all gangly legs and arms and modern sportsmanship, our very own Ronaldo…or so he says. Manchester United
- Angry Mick – best head of hair amongst us, never let him take a penalty. Leeds United.
- Fergus – our little Paddy, another Rugby player, quick feet and too many nutmegs (oh yes I will have my revenge). Liverpool
Presently playing for the Darks (in other words any colour shirt other than white)
- Steve – aka Cuddles – club historian, once a goalkeeper now a lumbering play anywhere-er, turns like an oil tanker, the artisan and philosopher amongst us…or so he says. Wednesdayite.
- Mark – chunters for England then turns on a sixpence, best make sure it is to feet, most often heard to shout ‘nothing daft’. Wednesdayite
- Fireman Dave – the old man of the team but the fittest amongst us, knee supports held together by gaffer tape, most likely to be seen undertaking sliding tackles. No idea who he supports.
- Stewart – another man mountain, solid, dependable, wicked shot, quiet and deadly, less worried about getting the ball first. No idea who he supports
- Cam – the silent but deadly youngster, fitter than the rest of us put together, which isn’t saying much. Wednesdayite
- Chris – the bellow of ‘Chrissssssssses’ can be often heard as he launches himself into the tackle, shot, backpass, spectacular fall, flying save. Wednesdayite
And finally, yet to pin his colours to any mast…
Big Al – our Italian Stallion, now playing in Romania or is it Zambia or indeed wherever he lays his hat (which does make us think he is on the run from the law and not the university world renowned lecturer he tells us he is) but occasionally back to trick and treat his way through massed ranks of defenders. Subtitles provided. Napoli, oh yes Napoli.
We have lost other players along the way:
Steve the Bruce, Coops, Danny, Geordie Dave, Martin, Tim, and others, all fondly remembered and welcomed back at any time, and we welcome new players at all times.
And then we have our Legends:
For the Whites
Brian – founding father, tricky winger, low centre of gravity, always tired but always bursting past you, needs to stop smoking. Unitedite.
For the Darks
Jess – aka Rob, founding father, Chairman of the club, a gentle giant of a man with a hand breaking shot, rarely pays his subs on time. Unitedite.
If we had a stadium we would have statues of these outside of it, alongside the statue of Paper Lace (because if you can tell me there is a better anti-war song than ‘Billy Don’t Be A Hero’ I won’t believe you and I’ll stab you with a plastic fork, and every football ground needs a random statue to confuse visiting fans).