Fergie Time

As of today, Sir Alex Ferguson has been the manager of Manchester United longer than the late, great Sir Matt Busby. Fergie has had the top job in English club football since November 1986.

Except it probably wasn't the top job when he took it.

To put things into perspective, United hadn't won the First Division title for 19 years at the time. Our only truly bitter rivals Liverpool had 16 Championship successes to their name (next to our 7) and had totally dominated the previous 11 seasons, winning the trophy 8 times. Only the brilliance of Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest (who I had the privilege of seeing rip United to shreds 4-0 at Old Trafford on their way to their first and certainly last League title in 1977-78), Aston Villa's great team of 1980-81 (who won probably their last ever top division title after a then 71-year wait) and Everton in 1984-85 (not their last ever title, but almost certainly their second-to-last ever title).

The first season that I can remember watching United, 1974-75, we were in Division Two and playing the likes of York City, Orient (minus the Leyton, as they were then known), Oldham Athletic and Oxford United after the final and complete break up of the Busby Babes. Unless you count Sammy McIlroy, which I always did. I was heartbroken when Ron Atkinson publicly signed Bryan Robson on the Old Trafford pitch before the game against Wolves on 3 October 1981. Everyone knew that it would be Sammy, United through and through and still only 27, who would have to leave to make room in the first team. He scored his only United hattrick that same afternoon against Wolves and was sold on to Stoke City 4 months later.

In the years before Ferguson that I was a United fan, we won Division Two and had a new, young and exciting to watch (and listen to on the radio) team under the flawed management of Tommy Docherty. In our first season back in the top flight we managed a creditable third place in the League just 4 points behind Liverpool and 3 behind a great QPR side (Stan Bowles, Gerry Francis) managed by Dave Sexton. Some great old footage of match and players' hair highlights:

Although United inexplicably lost to Southampton in the FA Cup Final that same season, we beat Liverpool in the Final of 1977 to prevent them winning the real Treble, a truly remarkable achievement by a team that will live forever in my memory and which was immortalised (for a few years at least) on my Subbuteo table. The disgraced and disgraceful Doc was sacked, which at the time was impossible for me aged ten to understand. Replaced by his antithesis, the dour and disappointingly defensively-minded Sexton, the highlight of the next four years was our return to Wembley in 1979. We lost in the most devastating fashion to a last minute Alan Sunderland goal for Arsenal after having just clawed two goals back to level ourselves (including a brilliant equaliser from McIlroy).

Ron Atkinson brought back the flair and entertainment of Docherty's years and won two more FA Cup Finals, the best moment being Norman Whiteside's winner to prevent Everton from winning their own trophy Treble. Big Ron's United were always far too reliant on Captain Marvel Robson and his injury after we won the first ten games in the League the following season signalled the beginning of the end of his five years in charge.

Enter Ferguson.

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Although I didn't fully comprehend it at the time, looking back now, it's easy to see how amazing his achievements were with Aberdeen, not only in breaking the Old Firm monotony, but even winning in Europe, too. A real foretaste of what was to come.

But it took several more seasons of hurt and under-achievement. I'm thankful that, apart from Xmas and New Year, I spent the entire 1989-90 season in the US. I did make it back to see us win another FA Cup and it was this cup run and victory that is supposed to have saved Fergie's job. If I'm honest, I probably wanted him to go some time before then, so rubbish we were.

Whatever the reasons, thank God he stayed! The rest is relatively recent history and well documented.

All I want to say is thanks to the Boss for filling the last twenty years with new found and real hope, unbounded and tearful joy, some of the most thrilling and unbelievable moments and matches. And trophy after trophy after trophy.

He knocked Liverpool off their perch as he promised he would. He took the spirit of Busby and re-modelled it for the modern game. He imbued himself in the traditions and the culture of the club and made damned sure every single player at every level did the same or they were out. Christ, he even shut my Dad up harking on about how we'd never be as good as Best, Law and Charlton. He made us United again.

Just thinking about Barcelona in 1999, where my then new housemate and landlord was experiencing first hand the atmosphere for himself (I'd moved to London for a new job just ten days earlier) and phoning me on his mobile to let me hear the singing, is choking me up.

1-0 down in injury time, having been totally outplayed without our suspended talismen Keane and Scholes, I was literally on my knees praying to a God I didn't believe in. It wasn't be the first - and I hope it won't be the last - time I was running around, jumping up and down, screaming 'Yes! Yes! Yes!!!!'

It would have been fitting if we could have beaten Chelsea today, but I hope the postponement has meant a day at home for Sir Alex with his family to relax before Xmas and the always most important next match against Sunderland.

Thanks, Boss!

Good Godman! Why Is This So Difficult?

Yet again, I have waited in all day, quiet as a mouse so that I can hear the buzzer to my flat's intercom go 'Buzzzzz! Buzzzzz!' alerting me to the fact that one of your drivers has successfully delivered the items I ordered from Amazon yesterday safe in the knowledge that as a valued Amazon Prime customer I am guaranteed 'free' next day delivery. I say 'free' because I do of course pay for this particular privilege. No doubt some of that premium goes to your company's shareholders and other tax avoiders. I pay for guaranteed next day delivery so that I can guarantee being at home and available to receive the goods and not at work, so that I don't have to go through this excruciating battle every time.

I note that your CityLink Service Alert [PDF] makes no mention of Wednesbury or Cricklewood the two depots where my goods supposedly have been so far.

Amazon's parcel tracker

CityLink's parcel tracker

I see no snow or other natural disasters occurring outside my window. I wonder what can the matter be? No card in my post box pretending that I was out when I was in. No message from Stuart Godman himself offering to refund my Amazon Prime subscription for providing a less than first class and as far removed from customer centric service as I can imagine it's possible to get.

Here is a suggestion for Stuart. If you want to improve your customers' experience, why don't you try delivering next day for once? I mean, how hard can it really be? Even the Royal Mail can still manage that!

The only possible explanation I can think of is that Amazon have been defrauded by a charlatan company pretending to be the great and fantastic real CityLink.

No doubt your company will go to extra lengths and do whatever it takes to attempt to deliver my goods tomorrow - WHEN I'LL BE OUT AT WORK. And then we can go through this whole palaver all over again after I have had to beg and plead with someone, as if they are doing me a special favour, to re-deliver on Thursday when I will again be at home. Maybe. Maybe I should get out more and spend my money in the High Street. But I've been seriously ill these last few months and that hasn't really been an option. Plus, if you think I'm angry now, you should see me in an actual shop!

Anyway, enough ranting. Please deliver my goods today. If that's too much to expect, please don't deliver them tomorrow as it will be a complete waste of your time and money as I won't be in to receive them. If you really can't deliver tonight, please deliver them on Thursday. I would really rather not have to go through this all again with you tomorrow night because you are just doing your job, following procedures and ignoring your customer's wishes. Stuart wouldn't want that either, I'm sure.

One of, I imagine, many of your truly pissed off customers,

David Marsden

Currys In The High Street*

A three-part tale of woe in 140 characters or less by my drug-crazed-zombie-caked-in-flour-friend Mr Andy C at the hands of British High Street electrical retailer Comet reminded me of my own previous with a similarly customer-challenged, although as it turns out, unrelated store.

A little background before I begin a rather more detailed account of my own attempt to do business with Currys:

On 18 August 2005, Comet underwent a £20 million re branding campaign to differentiate itself from other players in the market, mainly Currys, as both company logos were in white print against a red background and the company names were 'similar'. It was often the case that customers would buy an item from Currys and attempt to return it to Comet, either believing the two companies were part of the same brand or simply mistaking the two.

I will shortly be logging into Wikipedia to amend this entry in order to give a fuller, fairer and more accurate explanation, thus:

On 18 August 2005, Comet underwent a £20 million re branding campaign to differentiate itself from other players in the market, mainly Currys, as both company logos were in white print against a red background and the company names were 'similar'. It was often the case that customers would buy an item from Currys and attempt to return it to Comet, either believing the two companies were part of the same brand or simply mistaking the two. Of course, the main reason being that both are completely and equally crap.

I realise that a casual reader, or even that lowest form of human life a libel lawyer, might think, 'Hold on, how is it fair to say that these two leading exponents of the world-famous and none-better British High Street Retail Experience are completely and equally crap based on the anecdotal evidence of just two barely sane sounding people?'

Dear casual reader and/or lowest forms of human life: 'Please go shopping at Comet or Currys and see for yourself. This is not a double-blind scientific research study, nor is it meant to be in any way objective. I have written and published this article in order to release some of the frustration and inner tensions that have been welling up inside me for over two years and, I hope, for comedic effect. I am trying to fix the robotic seal which normally comforts me, but I am more of a thinker than a doer, unfortunately, and the nurses just don't seem to care.'


5 October 2008

Nish - Store Manager Currys.digital 22-23 Ealing Broadway Centre Town Square Ealing, W5 5JY

Dear Nish,

Formal complaint about customer service received on 23 September 2008

As requested by you I am putting in writing my complaint about the customer service I received in your store on 23 September 2008.

As you know, I came into the store at around 4:00 pm to buy a twin cordless telephone handset that had a conference or three way call facility built in. I'd researched online the previous evening and knew that Currys.digital usually stocks at least two or three, if not more, phones that matched my criteria.

Normally, I'm quite happy to browse for what I want myself and not to trouble your customer sales staff. On this occasion, however, I was in a hurry to get home and after finding the shelf with all the telephone handsets I immediately asked the first sales advisor who came into view for help locating suitable products which matched my criteria. I told Alex exactly what I wanted and that I'd like him to help me find it.

Alex's response was to tell me that conference calls depended on my telephone service provider (e.g., BT) and that I would need to call them first in order to set up this functionality on my phone. As I'd already researched these products I found Alex's response to be quite annoyingly unhelpful. I told Alex that I knew for a fact that his store sold the product I was looking for and suggested that a more helpful response from him would be to tell me that he didn't know, but that he would go and find someone - a colleague or his manager - who did know. Alex refused to go and get any help and accused me of being rude to him. Right away I found a phone that matched my criteria and pointed it out to him and repeated my request that he find a colleague or his manager. Alex again refused and this time walked away. By this time I was very angry and upset to be treated in this way.

I went to the till to buy the phone and to complain about the service I'd just received from Alex. Justyna was quite helpful and pleasant, but she defended Alex and asked me not to complain about him because "he's a nice guy", or words to that effect. I'm sure he's a great guy, but that is not the point. The point is, he did not do his job properly. He did not help me in choosing the product I wanted or in helping me buy the right product for me. In fact, he gave me wrong advice and refused to help even when I asked him for help. If I hadn't needed to buy the phone that evening I would have gone elsewhere and you would have lost the sale. That's got to be bad for business. I had to serve myself and if I hadn't researched myself prior to coming to your store I would have gone away disappointed because your sales staff do not know their own products and do not even know how to say "I don't know, but I'll find someone who does" - they would rather treat their customers as fools.

All in all, a very unsatisfactory experience, the only bright spot being that I got the phone that I wanted. I'm not sure what you can do to resolve my complaint - I asked for a 10% discount on the phone, but you refused. I'd prefer not to shop in your store ever again, if possible. Sadly, it's my experience that Alex is symptomatic of almost every high street store where there is a similar lack of knowledgeable service and I'd be surprised if he genuinely acknowledges that he could have done better or if he even cares.

Yours sincerely,

David Marsden

Cc: customerservices@dsgiplc.com


Mon, Oct 13, 2008 at 3:05 PM

Re: Formal complaint about customer service received on 23 September 2008 - 1248920

Dear Mr Marsden,

Thank you for your email dated 9th October 2008.  I apologise for the delay in my response.

I was concerned to learn of your experience with our Ealing store.  A copy of your correspondence has been sent to the Store Manager.  This matter will be investigated internally and steps will be taken to ensure that this type of incident does not happen again.

Please accept my apologies for this matter and my assurances that this does not reflect our usual high level of product satisfaction and service we aim to offer all our customers.  I trust that you will not be deterred from shopping with us in the future.

Yours sincerely,

Charlotte

Currys Support


Sun, Oct 26, 2008 at 12:55 PM

Re: Formal complaint about customer service received on 23 September 2008 - 1248920

Dear Charlotte,

Thanks for your response. I had already sent the same letter to the Store manager at Ealing Broadway by post, but I have had no reply from him, not even an acknowledgment of receipt. This is especially disappointing as it was he who advised me that I would have to complain in writing if I wanted him to do anything about it. Oh, the irony....!

As I stated in my original complaint letter, I will try to avoid shopping in Currys stores in future whenever possible.


I am pleased to report that I have never been back since.

*Inspiration for the title of this post goes to my little robotic friend @x11r5

CNL's Not Linux!!!1

Canonical demon Mark Shuttlecock today launched the latest of his life-threatening initiatives CNL, a Unix-like computer operating system developed by the Ubuntu project composed wholly of the best bits of free and non-free software so that it just bloody well works.

Several leading members of the Free Software community spontaneously combusted on hearing the news while the Free Software Foundation has issued a fatwā calling for Mr Shuttlecock to be forcibly detained against his will until he 'opens up' and agrees to comply with Freedom. CNL is believed by some to be a deliberately provocative recursive word-play.

It has been reported that an as yet unnamed spokesperson for Canonical has already been summarily hunted down, tied up and thrown into the nearest river to drown by a group of neckbeard-wearing Free Software enthusiasts.

Fear And Loathing In Ma's Basement

Neckbeards are believed to have developed from a fork in homo sapiens' evolution when their brains became too large and heavy to be supported by their necks alone. The characteristic neckbeard is an adaptive genetic mutation (neckbeardism), therefore, giving extra strength and ballast to support these super-brains, but at the expense of an almost complete loss of ability to see anything from anyone else's point of view.

This makes neckbeards inherently vulnerable to attack from the side or from behind and as a result they generally avoid open places due to their lack of social skills and feelings of persecution. The original cave-dwellers, they tend to prefer the safety of underground bunkers or, in reality, the security of their mother's windowless basement.

Another curious manifestation of neckbeardism is that the feet of those afflicted continue to grow in adulthood. Left unchecked they are rendered completely immobile and unable to go outside. This is why you often see a neckbeard with his foot in his mouth or picking the skin off his feet and eating it in order to compensate for the otherwise unmanageable foot growth.

They are believed to communicate with each other via secret tunnels and coded grunting and although there is evidence that they have developed highly sophisticated electronic networks these are generally too esoteric for the normal population to understand or use.

The Man Who Mistook His Hat For A Computer

9/11 - The Truth Is In Here!

The Official Narrative

Factual errors:

  • I was wearing a Marston's Pedigree t-shirt, not a London Pride t-shirt.
  • I thought the UK equivalent of Ohio might be East Anglia or Lincolnshire, not Devon. Come to think of it now, it's probably Wales.
  • Andy had plenty of change in his pockets, but by this time he was being restrained by his carers.

Fantastica Four: The Fall and Rise of Laconica

Norman Brightside, a personal shopper with Paper Sun - the innovative clothing range for women and made in his own image (spirited, sexy, stylish and affordable) - at The Oracle shopping centre in Reading. Special powers - able to transform himself into his alma mater Joanna Lumley.

The Reverend Frank Einstein Jones (not his real name), an unemployed lexical plumbing and drainage consultant with the Church of the Missing Pointy Ears in Vulcan Mountain, Colorado. Special powers - able to communicate directly with God Evan and to invoke Josh Wood.

The Reverend Robyn Fantastica Herr, a devotee of a mysterious 'non-prophet' breadmaker specialising in raising dough and feeding hungry souls on the streets of San Francisco. Special powers - Biblical knowledge of Biblical euphemisms.

Richard Stallman, a Free Software enthusiast..., wait, sorry, David Marsden, just a regular foot-fetishist out to have a drink with his hitherto imaginary friends....

THE IDƎNTEVƎNT

405 years earlier... Guy Fawkes, known as the undercroft bomber, failed to blow up even himself. Possibly the world's best-known and least effective terrorist/Catholic, Fawkes is posthumously responsible for combining children's entertainment with possible death and permanent disability and for the rise of the Chinese economy.

19:25 I arrived at the Cleveland Arms in Bayswater, conveniently located for a quick getaway just around the corner from Paddington station and the Heathrow Express. On entering the hostelry I tried to avoid the gaze of the mad staring man until I realised it was Mr Brightside (clearly a pseudonym based on a song of the same name by a popular music group sinisterly known as The Killers), who I recognised from the FBI's Most Wanted, at the far end of the room. According to the FBI, Brightside is known to fly to the Middle East on 'business'.

5 days earlier... Frank and Robyn fly into Heathrow Airport from San Francisco for their 'belated honeymoon.'

19:35 Having introduced ourselves and got a pint of Adnams ale for myself, I listened as Mr Brightside, wearing what appeared to be a prison uniform from a Nazi concentration camp, inform me that he had been discussing the nature of reality with Mr Jones and Frau Herr. Mr Brightside seemed to find it amusing that reality 'was often, like, running up that hill', which I took to be a coded reference to 70s warbler Kate Bush, the bastard lovechild of George Bush Snr. and Margaret Thatcher.

33 years earlier... Larry Ellison forms his new software company Oracle, named after the ultimate pub quiz database project he has been working on for then CIA Director George Bush Snr. at Ampex.

19:40 Mr Jones and Frau Herr told us that they had been to a 'Fall' gathering near Waterloo, which could only mean that they were conspiring to bring down the UK government the following day. Indeed, Frau Herr confessed that her father Herr Herr was active in the student riots at Kent and Jackson State universities in 1970. Both Mr Jones and Mr Brightside asked me if I was familiar with the fall of Sparta and although I studied some of the classics, it was all Greek to me. Subsequent research has confirmed, however, that Sparta was the original codename for Laconica, the Free and Evan-sent alternative to Oracle. Subsequent interrogation of Mr Jones, using simulated beer-drinking techniques allowed by the Geneva Convention, elicited information about Evan's identi.ca that cannot be revealed here for reasons of global security.

56 years earlier... In a recording studio equipped with an Ampex reel to reel tape machine, an unknown truck driver named Elvis Presley records the never-to-be-released "I Wanna Be Your Hound Dog" at Sun Studios in Memphis.

20:25 Mr Jones distributed coloured cards with strange esoteric 'status' symbols on them and we laid them out on the table and urging me and Mr Brightside to 'take them, take them!' Mr Jones began moving his arms about wildly and I believe we entered a trance-like state during which the two reverends conducted an occult marriage ceremony ultimately leading to Mr Brightside's cold-hearted break-up the next day with his long-time long-distance lover Michael Twofish. It was at this point that I induced a tactical self-soiling in order to prevent any immediate consummation that evening. (I was also secretly thankful for the experience and knowledge of adult incontinence aids I gained from working with confused elderly people in the late 1990s and the extra protective under-clothing layerage I had had the foresight to wear.)

47 years earlier... Ampex technology is used to show replays of the live assassination of Lee Harvey Oswald. Oswald had been brainwashed by the CIA, using an early prototype of the Oracle pub quiz database, to believe that he was John F. Kennedy's killer.

20:45 In a shocking twist to the night's events, Mr Brightside revealed his true identity to be Andy C, who hates quizzes, presumably because he knows all the answers as he got three out of three as we made for the exit, forfeiting our chance to share the prize of a tin of beans.

15 seconds earlier... Oh, forget that.

21:05 Chuntering happily down the road towards Paddington in search of food, we were accosted by a young man in a waiter's outfit who guided us into a room with a table and chairs and invited us to sit down. He brought us beer, wine, pizza and pasta, which we consumed with gusto.

10:30 By now, the drugs were wearing off. Frank and Robyn bade us farewell while Andy and I wished them well on the rest of their stay in Olde London Town. In typical British fashion, Andy and I managed to sneak in a final snifter before closing time at the Pride of Paddington where they serve their own ale called the Pride of Paddington. I believe Andy asked for two pints of Paddington Bear. We discussed tactics for the following night's Manchester derby before going on our way to our separate homes.

Three days later... The Pride of Paddington is, apparently, a gay pub.
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It’s Just A Ride. Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed through a slow vibration, we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, life is only a dream and we are the imaginations of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather. Bill Hicks

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