Simone Poodoin posted:

quote:

Man Utd mess of their own making
Real timeline
1999 – “Supporters” group formed to protest potential Murdoch takeover of United. After complaints, takeover stopped, and supporters groups are happy.
2003 – Next though is the McManus and Magnier approach. Fans protest that. Bombarding the Irish pair, and interrupting horse meets. Takeover called off. 2005 – Glazers increase ownership, and then the Glazers swoop in to buy the club. Supporters groups protest, but too late, the damage has been done.

Alternative timelines:
1999 – Mudoch buys United. Glazers don’t.
2003 – McManus and Magnier buy a large stake in United. Glazers don’t.
2005 – No Glazer ownership.

Would United have been better off if their “supporters groups” had never existed (seriously? I think they would have)?

Regards
Greg H

jesus WEP posted:

if you take a large enough data set - say every league where xG is calculated for a whole season - does xG match really closely with actual goals? because if it doesn't, it's definitely time to shut up about xG forever

Mickolution posted:

I figured they were just making a bad faith argument, but...

quote:

Liverpool lies
Right, that’s me done with LFC.

(I should apologise in advance for this rant I spose! But you don’t have to read it)

My LFC Season tickets of 26 years have just been handed back to the club.

I’ll be back only once FSG and Klopp have gone.

“This”, “means more” at LFC only does so because we are so passionate about the club as LFC fans that we believe any old sh*te the club throws at us by way of media spin. Jurgen is just as bad. I’m no longer prepared to be that gullable.

Last season was horrific. Awful. At times embarrassing. And we need to bounce back massively this year because such a fall from grace should have been enough for Jurgen to have been politely shown the door (with the clubs best wishes and huge love and gratitude forever)
But instead we were sold the sh*te that we were going all out for Bellingham this year. Even with a few “talks with family members have started” thrown in for good measure

Then, we walk away from Bellingham due to the usual “sensible sustainable player investment” sh*te we usually get. And usually fall for.

Then Bellingham goes to Madrid for about 40% less than we thought. More importantly, for a fee number not at all out of whack with previous investments LFC have made

So we’ve been spun the usual sh*te we always get. And I’m done.

I should say that Mac Allister looks a v good player to me. But a Bellingham he is not. Nor will the Mac Allister plus 2 other 30-50m players we will get in before next season collectively be either.

Thanks for reading. I also put this in a letter to the club I sent this morning returning my season tickets.

Goodbye LFC – I will miss the passion, but not the constant lies I keep being sold.
Paul, Wirral

Shrapnig posted:

I hope someone flies a plane into it

Butterfly Valley posted:

I want to make teams with a player in that position from each country mentioned but I'm not sure who hails from the countries of Isis, Hamas or Hezbollah

trem_two posted:

it would literally be too triggering for you to see based on one of your prior meltdowns here

vyelkin posted:

The noise from the middle tier of the stand at the Spartak Stadium was strangely persistent, rising above the pre-match hum of Argentina versus Iceland in Moscow, the pitch a humid pocket of shade, the far end still pounded by heavy mid-afternoon sun.

It was a banging noise. And a rattling noise. And a yelling noise. People had already begun to turn and point. Looking up, the first thing you saw from below was the fold of chins and sub-chins. Then it was the cigar, protruding like a gun snub above the lip of the balcony. And finally it was the face of Diego Maradona craning over the rail, arms spread in a papal gesture, and looking like, if not the most excited man of all time, then surely the most excited man yet.

It would be incorrect to say Maradona continued to have a really great time across the entire 90 minutes. He definitely took some breaks. The key moment, for this awe-struck hack, came at the end of the game. Hurrying inside, I passed him on the stairs. At first it looked like Maradona was slumped, but this was more a resting than a slumping. Someone had just clanged through the door next to him. In that moment it was me and El Diego alone in a stairwell.

I loved Diego Maradona. I think love is appropriate here. With Maradona it felt personal. From the first time you saw him, you just knew you’d have to follow every single thing he ever did, that every sports person, athlete, performer would now be measured against the ideal of that grainy, gliding figure in the hard white light of Mexico 86, moving through the matrix of mortal human World Cup footballers like a superhero, bending the day, the game, the physics of it all to his will.

There was no question in that moment of talking to Maradona. Instead, as it became clear this would be inevitable, given the need to walk up the stairs, I smelled Maradona. What did he smell of? Sweat. Chemical cosmetic product. And a generalised smell I can only describe as “man”. Maradona smelt of man.

To be clear, I didn’t choose to smell Maradona. But I did let it happen, allowing the airborne Diego molecules to enter my nostril. To this day I am convinced some tiny sub-particle of me is still made up of Maradona molecules. Just as by reading this paragraph some part of your own brain, the valve that dissolves written thought-words into the lateral think-puddle (this is science) is also Maradona smell. So good luck with that and you’re welcome.