England

It´s difficult for someone of my generation to comprehend or even begin to imagine the news of the 1958 Munich Air Disaster filtering through to the people of Manchester and the supporters of Manchester United Football Club. I´m used to disasters being relayed, reported and confirmed within minutes of them happening on satellite TV, the internet and through mobile phones. Back in 1958 it would have been word of mouth, with reality only hitting home when it was in the black and white print of the newspapers.

Today is the 50th anniversary of the Munich Air Disaster that claimed the lives of seven United players, with Duncan Edwards, a player Bobby Robson still claims to have been the best he has ever seen, dying 15 days later. The aircraft carrying the United team crashed on a snowy runway on it´s third attempt to take off, on the way back from a European tie. Matt Busby´s team was destroyed and it must have seemed that the future of the club was in doubt.

Things move on though, all too quickly sometimes. United played on, youth players and reserves were promoted to the first team. Amazingly, United won their first match after the crash, a young team inspired and moved by the passionate support defeated Sheffield Wednesday 3-0. It was to be the only league match United would win for the rest of the season, their league challenge faltering. They did reach the final of the FA Cup though, only to lose 2-0 to Bolton Wanderers.

Matt Busby was weakened by the crash, spending 3 months in hospital, but Busby vowed to bounce back and bring the European Cup to Manchester.

Things move on, but some things are never forgotten. On a balmy May night in 1968 at Wembley, 10 years after he lay among the snow on a Munich runway, Matt Busby lifted the European Cup for Manchester United. United defeated Euseubio´s Benfica 4-1. Bobby Charlton, who had been in the crash back in 58 scored two goals, with George Best and a young Brian Kidd bagging the other two.

It´s quite a story and there are many chapters still to be written about Manchester United Football Club, but you can be sure that 1958 will never be forgotten. Printed below is a poem written by a United supporter in the aftermath of the disaster.

Lyric by Eric Winter

One cold and bitter Thursday in Munich, Germany,
Eight great football stalwarts conceded victory,
Eight men will never play again who met destruction there,
The Flowers of English football, the Flowers of Manchester.

Matt Busby's boys were flying home, returning from Belgrade,
This great United family, all masters of their trade,
The pilot of the aircraft, the skipper Captain Thain,
Three times they tried to take off and twice turned back again.

The third time down the runway disaster followed close,
There was slush upon that runaway and the aircraft never rose,
It ploughed into the marshy ground, it broke, it overturned,
And eight of the team were killed as the blazing wreckage burned.

Roger Byrne and Tommy Taylor who were capped for England's side.
And Ireland's Billy Whelan and England's Geoff Bent died,
Mark Jones and Eddie Colman, and David Pegg also
They all lost their lives as it ploughed on through the snow.

Big Duncan he went too, with an injury to his brain.
And Ireland's brave Jack Blanchflower will never play again,
The great Matt Busby lay there, the father of his team,
Three long months passed by before he saw his team again.

The trainer, coach and secretary, and a member of the crew,
Also eight sporting journalists who with United flew,
and one of them Big Swifty, who we will ne'er forget,
the finest English 'keeper that ever graced the net.

Oh, England's finest football team its record truly great,
its proud successes mocked by a cruel turn of fate.
Eight men will never play again, who met destruction there,
the Flowers of English football, the Flowers of Manchester.

Before I go on to update you on what we have been up to I must use this blog to say how sad I am to hear that Ole Gunnar Solskjaer has retired from professional football. After all, this blog is supposed to reflect my thoughts and reflections during my year out.

Solskjaer is one of my all-time favourite players - professional, deadly in the box, unselfish, passionate, thoughtful and the man behind the best feeling I have ever experienced. Allow me to take you back to a warm night in Barcelona on May 26th 1999. Manchester United were playing Bayern Munich in the final of the European Champions League. Bayern were 1-0 up and United had taken a bit of a battering in the second half, they were lucky not to be a few goals down. United bounced back and had a decent last 10 minutes but with 90 minutes showing on the electronic scoreboard directly across from where I was sitting, the Germans thought they had won it. I was clutching on to my scarf, praying for a break. I didn't want to go back to the UK and face the stick I'd get at work if United lost. Surely it was meant to be. United had already won the league and the FA Cup and had the chance of a historic and unprecedented treble. My good friend Phil had managed to get two tickets for the game only on the 24th and my good friend Tel's son was born in the early hours of the 25th allowing him to be at the birth and then head off to Barcelona. We'd even managed to get from Glasgow to Manchester for our flight in Phil's beat up old car.

A miracle happened. United won a corner. Schmichael, playing in his last ever game for United, charged up field leaving his goald exposed. Beckham swung the corner in, the Great Dane caused confusion in the defence, Giggs swung wildly at the ball, it feel to Teddy Sheringham who turned the ball in. OH TEDDY TEDDY - 1-1!

There was complete bedlam all around me. Grown men were crying. People were literally rubbing their eyes in disbelief. 3 minutes had been held up for injury time, 3 minutes to win it, the European Cup, the treble. The Munich players were on their knees, United sensed they had the momentum to win it and within seconds another corner had been won.

Beckham, who was outstanding all season setting up a remarkable 22 goals, swung the ball to the nearpost, Sheringham won the ball and flicked it on with his head and there at the backpost was Ole Gunnar Solskjaer to turn the ball into the net and win the European Champions League and the treble for Manchester United Football Club. I will never truly be able to explain how I felt at that moment. The best drugs in the world could never recapture it. Sheer adrenelin, emotion, relief, passion, joy.....really I can't describe it. I burst into tears of happiness and was pulled into the seats behind me to celebrate with people I had never met before. Fans all around were hugging, kissing, looking to the heavens. I ran into the isle to find Phil who was sitting just along from me, our eyes bulged with delight as we embraced and climbed over a barrier to get to the very first row of the Nou Camp!

We literally could not believe what was happening. The celebrations were absoloutely brilliant. Every player had their song sung. 'Sit Down' by James boomed around the Nou Camp. Sir Alex lifted the cup and was then lifted on to the shoulders of Wes Brown and Raymond Van Der Gauwe right in front of us. As I said before, I think it was destiny. It was Sir Matt Busby's birthday, what a present!

So Ole Gunnar Solskjaer was responsible for a feeling I don't think I will ever experience again. Ole Gunnar Solskjaer will forever be in the hearts of United supporters around the world. Ole Gunnar Solskjaer is a legend. He has not had an easy time of it since, bar a season he had on the right wing keeping Beckham out of the team. He has had 3 or 4 knee operations, yet he has battled back, kept his head down and carried on doing whatever Fergie asked of him.

Last season he repaid Fergie's faith by scoring 11 goals, including two against Celtic in the Champions League. He fell in love with United, the history of the club and the tremendous supporters and the club and the supporters fell in love with him. Needless to say he will live on forever as part of United's history.

LONG LIVE OLE!