My dear fellow Red Devils, I hope this travel story of mine doesn’t rile you up in any shape or form. Speaking of shape and form, Mourinho really needs that in our team right now.
Manchester United has always played a huge part in my life, especially when I was growing up. Watching the beautiful, fluid football that Sir Alex Ferguson’s men used to play has always influenced my playing style. After being a Manchester United fan for 17 years, I was finally given an opportunity to fly to England in 2013 and visit United’s fortress at Old Trafford. Unfortunately for me, what should have been the moment of my life was nauseatingly ruined.
Having already spent the first part of my English holiday in Reading, I was exploding with immense anticipation when the day finally came for us to head up north to Manchester. I had no time to waste and gobbled down a re-heated samosa, a small decision that would soon lead to huge regret.
Driving through Manchester was remarkably relaxing. The wide roads and strong winds considerably lessened the anxiety of travelling in a foreign country. Of course, there was also the experience of driving past Etihad Stadium and making naughty gestures at it.
Arriving at Old Trafford, my dreams finally became reality. The sight of the majestic stadium was nice and clear, even through the dusty windows of the car. As we drove into the carpark, I felt my stomach starting to churn, which I attributed to my excitement (boy was I was wrong). As soon as the handbrake was lifted, I sprinted out of the car and dashed straight to the holy trinity (for those not familiar with Manchester United, it refers to the statues of Sir Bobby Charlton, George Best and Denis Law). At this point, my stomach was churning even more intensely and I didn’t feel too well. I started breathing heavily and my fourth exhale wasn’t just air. I threw up… right in front of the gods of Manchester United.
Reactions around me were mixed, but most were indifferent as if vomiting in public was a common occurrence (god bless English politeness). I quickly cleaned up after myself and luckily, the rest of my adventure at Old Trafford was puke-free.
My tour kicked off in its vibrant dressing room. Surrounded by the shirts of legends such as Van Persie, Giggs, Rooney and Scholes, I was in awe. Touching their kits, I was wondering to myself: “Is this really the jersey of Paul Scholes, the greatest English playmaker of all time? Seriously, he’s at my fingertips now?” If touching it wasn’t enough, my obsession led to me smelling their kits. A very weird moment but moving on to the trophy cabinet…
Unlike other football clubs in England, the Manchester United trophy cabinet isn’t just a two by two-metre table. It’s a mini tour room of its own! With splendid lighting to magnify the grandeur of the trophies that the club has won, this room is a true reminder as to why Manchester United is one of the biggest clubs in the world.
After making sure I had soaked up all the sights (and smells) from dressing and trophy room, I embarked on the heroic walk from the tunnel to the pitch. I appreciated how engaging the tour was, with the recorded audio of the fans echoing through the tunnel as you line up with the other visitors pretending to be the players making their way to the field! Witnessing the sight of the stands in front you was indeed a surreal feeling that still gives me goosebumps. Relishing the great memories I’ve had with this titan of a football club and its rich history made me shed a tear. It was as though you could still hear the spirited chants from Stretford End, even through the silence of the stadium.
After all that crying and regurgitating, it was time to treat myself at the United megastore. Spread over 17,000 square feet, this was paradise! It is to me what Sephora is to makeup addicts. I spent close to S$500 on new kits, classic kits, heritage footballs and other exclusive merchandise. Trust me, being a fanboy is expensive.
That pretty much sums up my little adventure at Old Trafford. A great spectacle that every United fan must experience at least once in their lifetime. Glory, Glory Manchester United!
Also, according to the doctor whom I visited after, I concluded that it was the samosa that caused the vomiting.