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tbp posted:I'd say Pulis but I wonder if he's got the same problem Moyes has No, he's Welsh.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:31
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Spangly A posted:I'm amazed how many people are buying into this "it was obvious" myth skimming through page one of that thread i dont see anybody with united coming top a lot of people predicted moyes would be a flop - few guessed quite how damaging his tenure could be so soon
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Apr 21, 2014 18:33
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Strawman posted:Will this still be the case for his successor? I can't see why it wouldn't be, to be honest. Like I say, if United hire van Gaal (or whoever) and there's no improvement, then a lot of blame is going to fall on the players. Beyond that, I don't think there'd be a great deal of pressure on him. He'd be expected to progress the squad, I'm not saying that finishing fourth forever is the goal, but the fans do recognise that United need to be bringing in new players and allowing the manager time to shape what he wants to do.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:34
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Would like to call everyones attention to this btw: http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3564666&userid=0&perpage=40&pagenumber=1#post418354844
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Apr 21, 2014 18:35
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Spangly A posted:I'm amazed how many people are buying into this "it was obvious" myth tbp always believed in Brendan's boys.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:35
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Cart Cam posted:tbp always believed in Brendan's boys. It looks like all I got mixed up was the tots and everton
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Apr 21, 2014 18:36
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tbp posted:Would like to call everyones attention to this btw: Absurdly close, and we call taff an itk
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Apr 21, 2014 18:36
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TBP is like some sort of weird idiot savant who cant talk to people properly but guesses the league.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:37
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If Roy Hodgson can go on from the job at Liverpool to becoming England manager, then I reckon we'll see ol' Davey Moyes captaining some side soon enough. I do pity whomever they stick in as the next heir to Fergie's throne.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:39
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This had set me up nicely for the day and now I'm disappointed. It has to be soon though
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Apr 21, 2014 18:46
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Utd say he hasn't been sacked.. yet, but won't comment on future speculation http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/26352231
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Apr 21, 2014 18:49
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Spangly A posted:I'm amazed how many people are buying into this "it was obvious" myth  Seems like all the non-united fans predict them finishing 3rd-7th. Very few people have been surprised by the decline, just that they got this shite this fast.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:50
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DickEmery posted:Imagine the emotional trauma of melting down over United Hero Ryan Giggs leading them to 7th. Uncle, you mean?
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Apr 21, 2014 18:51
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Spangly A posted:I'm amazed how many people are buying into this "it was obvious" myth psybro posted:Hahaha oh man, United are not finishing outside the top 2 and you can loving print that. James R posted:Uncle, you mean?  
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Apr 21, 2014 18:53
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Strawman posted:
four people who arent tbp predicted outside top 4. Four. I think it's absolutely fair to say people expected Davey Moyes to do better than his Everton team by more than a 2 point margin.
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Apr 21, 2014 18:54
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aellisr posted:we'll see ol' Davey Moyes captaining some side soon enough. He's a bit old for that imo
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Apr 21, 2014 18:57
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Strawman posted:
It's the performances too. Lots of people would have predicted 5th or 6th (a lot of United fans said they'd be satisfied by that), but I don't think anyone imagined they'd be so outclassed by literally all of the top clubs
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Apr 21, 2014 18:58
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Spangly A posted:four people who arent tbp predicted outside top 4. Four. Who were they? I don't have Archives and am curious.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:00
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Regarding Moyes, I think 20th century Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva put it best when she said: How many people fell in this abyss, I fathom from afar! There will be time, and I will vanish too From earth's exterior. All will be still, that sang and that did struggle, That glistened and rejoiced: The greenness of my eyes, the gold of my hair, And this my tender voice. Life will continue with its soft hot bread, With day's oblivion. All will continue — under outstretched heavens As if I'd never been! To all — who are the friends and strangers To never having known the measure, me? I turn to you with this my faith's demand And love's query. Both day and night, in word and letter both: For truth of yes and no, For that though I am but twenty I am So often in such sorrow, For unavoidably my slights and trespasses Will be forgiven me — For all of my impetuous tenderness And look too proud and free — For quickness of events as they come rushing, For truth, for play, say I — Please hear me! But do also please love me For this that I will die.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:13
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It's not written down anywhere but I correctly predicted Liverpool to win the league with United coming seventh, and Arsenal to win the cup.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:15
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 I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:16
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Spangly A posted:
Pretty much this. If you go from racing for Team Tut Tut to Team Mercedes, you should be finishing ahead of your previous employer.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:20
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 Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-- My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria Fergie.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:22
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 The guillotine's Sharp blade? Well then, just what? I'm not afraid of the guillotine, I laugh at the executioner, At his sharp blade. The guillotine is my life, Every day they execute me...  Every day two gentlemen In old-fashioned frock coats Sit with me as guests. And then they lead me through the door, They take my hands firmly And lay me under the sharp blade. My life passes this way...  And on Sundays people go To an execution, as to a low farce. The guillotine? A sharp blade? Well then, just what? I'll drink the glass down now... Let them lead me out to execution. 
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Apr 21, 2014 19:22
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 We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion; Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is Life is For Thine is the This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:23
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vyelkin posted:
Very nice
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Apr 21, 2014 19:23
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 Oh, weep for Adonais! The quick Dreams, The passion-winged Ministers of thought, Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he taught The love which was its music, wander not— Wander no more, from kindling brain to brain, But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain, They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:24
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Roses are red violets are blue my team is poo poo i work for man poo
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Apr 21, 2014 19:26
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this is the best page in EPL history.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:27
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 Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me; Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy: But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met-or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest! Git tae gently caress, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! Ae fareweeli alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:27
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 And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mouse Not shaking the grass
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Apr 21, 2014 19:27
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 O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!My Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:30
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 Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:30
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 When you walk through the storm Hold your head up high And don't be afraid of the dark At the end of the storm There's a golden sky And the sweet silver song of the lark Walk on, through the wind Walk on, through the rain Though your dreams be tossed and blown Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone You'll never walk alone. Moyes must walk.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:31
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pooshited
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Apr 21, 2014 19:32
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 He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:32
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Pooshited
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Apr 21, 2014 19:35
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Pain's disregard for our system of values greatly increases its hold on life. The emperor who, when urged to remove himself from the line of fire, responded by asking whether one had ever heard of an emperor falling in battle, exposed himself to one of those errors to which we all too willingly succumb. No human situation is secure against pain. Our children's tales close with passages about heroes who, after having overcome many dangers, live out their lives in peace and happiness. We hear such assurances with pleasure, for it is comforting for us to learn about a place removed from pain. Yet, in truth, life is without any such satisfying end, as is evidenced by the fragmentary character of most great novels, which are either incomplete or crowned by an artificial conclusion.  The fact that pain repudiates our values is easily hidden in times of peace. Yet we already begin to reel when a joyful, wealthy, or powerful man is stricken by the most ordinary afflictions.  The seeds of destruction are indifferent to whether they destroy the mind of a numskull or a genius. The scurrilous, yet significant, verse of Shakespeare speaks to this sentiment: Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. 
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Apr 21, 2014 19:35
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 There are actually people who revel In all kinds of obstacles.  But I don't appreciate difficulties. I like success to come easy!  I know there's a certain pleasure In butting your way through doors.  But me, I'm a simple kind of fellow, Who says that's the most boring work of all! 
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Apr 21, 2014 19:36
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 O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart; 'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover, You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other, The sea it was blue and the grass it was green, Every star rattled a round tambourine; Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay: But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
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Apr 21, 2014 19:37
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