The facts
Under-pressure Manchester United manager Michael Carrick delivered an emotional five-minute, 30-second address at a pre-match press conference, stating his commitment to the club's values of humility and hard work. He refused to rule out dropping captain Bruno Fernandes for the upcoming match against Bournemouth. Carrick's address came after a run of seven games without a win, including a 4-1 Champions League defeat to Como. Fernandes had previously criticized the team's tactics and suggested too much focus is placed on the club's history. Carrick stated that his decisions would always be what is best for the football club. Club sources indicated Fernandes would not lose the captaincy or be fined for his comments. Carrick also mentioned that the team dressing room is not divided and that the club is supporting Fernandes and his family after a burglary at their home.
Our take
Michael Carrick, the gormless interim prick at the wheel of a burning clown car, treated the press to a five-minute-thirty-second emotional wank about ‘humility’ and ‘hard work,’ which is rich coming from a man whose primary tactical contribution is looking like he’s about to cry into his club tie. He couldn’t even bring himself to say his captain’s job was safe, which is the managerial equivalent of whispering ‘maybe’ when your missus asks if she looks fat. What a fucking statesman. Bruno Fernandes, the whiny Portuguese shit-stirrer who just got his house burgled, must feel the love - his gaffer’s big show of support is to publicly dangle his place in the team over a fucking press conference. ‘The club is supporting Bruno and his family,’ Carrick sniffled, right after implying the ungrateful cunt might be watching the Bournemouth game from the bench with the other overpaid ornaments. The sheer, galaxy-brained dickheadedness of using a burglary as a PR cushion while simultaneously throwing your captain under the team bus is a new low, even for this shower of bastards. Seven games without a win, a 4-1 dick-slapping from Como, and the big solution is a solemn pledge to ‘club values’ delivered with the gravitas of a eulogy for a dead goldfish. The only thing more divided than Carrick’s loyalties is the fanbase’s opinion on which of these pricks should be fired into the sun first. He bleats that the dressing room isn’t divided, which means it’s probably unified in the collective belief that their gaffer is a spineless, weeping non-entity. Club sources say Bruno won’t be fined or stripped of the armband - presumably because that would require a backbone, and Carrick just used his to lubricate his tear ducts. What a pathetic, soggy-bollocked spectacle. The only hard work on display is the effort required not to laugh directly into his moist, values-drunk face. Fuck off, Michael. Take your humility and your five-minute-thirty-second fucking soliloquy and shove it up the history you’re all so obsessed with. The only thing you’ve ruled out is a shred of self-awareness, you absolute cunt. The Theatre of Dreams is now a hospice for terminal vanity, and the chief nurse is busy giving a press conference.
