Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, Sir 
Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty years on:

"The saddest thing about it all was that we really did believe we were on 
the verge of something massive back then, something bigger than anything we 
had ever seen at Old Trafford before. In the lads who perished that day we 
had the makings of a side that, we believed, would go on to conquer Europe. 
In much the same way that Hitler had some years before, only not in quite so 
nasty a way. But you know what I mean. All I recall is waiting for the plane 
to take off, then waiting for it to come down again. I looked over at Dave 
Pegg, one of the hardest men in the game back then, and let me tell you he 
was shitting a stick when the plane took off. Meanwhile, across the aisle 
from me sat our trainer Tom Curry and coach Herbert Whalley. Tom was 
whistling away as though he were out for a stroll, saying everything would 
be alright; but Herbert was trying to climb up the back of Matt Busby's coat 
for protection. All I could do was pray that I'd survive the whole ordeal, 
have my life spared so that one day I'd be able to go on and win 106 caps 
for England, win the European Cup, score loads of goals like the one I got 
against Portugal in the 1966 World Cup (rememer how I got the ball in my own 
half, ran forward, beating three Portuguese defenders and rifled the ball 
home blah blah blah...) and, of course, bore everyone senseless for the next 
fifty years about how great that team might just one day might possibly have 
eventually come to possibly be. But the real sad part about it all, looking 
back now all these years later, is that with all the stress of the 
aftermath, I went bald and had to play with that ludicrous comb-over thing 
flailing above my bonce every time I legged it down the wing. But at least I 
didn't go bald naturally, like that cunt our Jack."

The Thack pretended :
> Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, Sir 
> Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty years 
> on:

> "The saddest thing about it all was that we really did believe we were on 
> the verge of something massive back then, something bigger than anything 
> we had ever seen at Old Trafford before. In the lads who perished that 
> day we had the makings of a side that, we believed, would go on to 
> conquer Europe. In much the same way that Hitler had some years before, 
> only not in quite so nasty a way. But you know what I mean. All I recall 
> is waiting for the plane to take off, then waiting for it to come down 
> again. I looked over at Dave Pegg, one of the hardest men in the game 
> back then, and let me tell you he was shitting a stick when the plane 
> took off. Meanwhile, across the aisle from me sat our trainer Tom Curry 
> and coach Herbert Whalley. Tom was whistling away as though he were out 
> for a stroll, saying everything would be alright; but Herbert was trying 
> to climb up the back of Matt Busby's coat for protection. All I could do 
> was pray that I'd survive the whole ordeal, have my life spared so that 
> one day I'd be able to go on and win 106 caps for England, win the 
> European Cup, score loads of goals like the one I got against Portugal in 
> the 1966 World Cup (rememer how I got the ball in my own half, ran 
> forward, beating three Portuguese defenders and rifled the ball home blah 
> blah blah...) and, of course, bore everyone senseless for the next fifty 
> years about how great that team might just one day might possibly have 
> eventually come to possibly be. But the real sad part about it all, 
> looking back now all these years later, is that with all the stress of 
> the aftermath, I went bald and had to play with that ludicrous comb-over 
> thing flailing above my bonce every time I legged it down the wing. But 
> at least I didn't go bald naturally, like that cunt our Jack."

hehehe

the thack is back

-- 
+ His Holiness Pope Pompous XVIII

"I am bent to know by worst means the worst. For mine own good all 
causes shall give way, I am in blood stepped in so far that, should I 
wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er" - /Macbeth/ Act 3 
Sc 4.

On 6 Feb, 14:14, "The Thack"  wrote:
> Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, Sir
> Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty years on:
>
> "The saddest thing about it all was that we really did believe we were on
> the verge of something massive back then, something bigger than anything we
> had ever seen at Old Trafford before. In the lads who perished that day we
> had the makings of a side that, we believed, would go on to conquer Europe.
> In much the same way that Hitler had some years before, only not in quite so
> nasty a way. But you know what I mean. All I recall is waiting for the plane
> to take off, then waiting for it to come down again. I looked over at Dave
> Pegg, one of the hardest men in the game back then, and let me tell you he
> was shitting a stick when the plane took off. Meanwhile, across the aisle
> from me sat our trainer Tom Curry and coach Herbert Whalley. Tom was
> whistling away as though he were out for a stroll, saying everything would
> be alright; but Herbert was trying to climb up the back of Matt Busby's coat
> for protection. All I could do was pray that I'd survive the whole ordeal,
> have my life spared so that one day I'd be able to go on and win 106 caps
> for England, win the European Cup, score loads of goals like the one I got
> against Portugal in the 1966 World Cup (rememer how I got the ball in my own
> half, ran forward, beating three Portuguese defenders and rifled the ball
> home blah blah blah...) and, of course, bore everyone senseless for the next
> fifty years about how great that team might just one day might possibly have
> eventually come to possibly be. But the real sad part about it all, looking
> back now all these years later, is that with all the stress of the
> aftermath, I went bald and had to play with that ludicrous comb-over thing
> flailing above my bonce every time I legged it down the wing. But at least I
> didn't go bald naturally, like that cunt our Jack."

Got new batteries for those prosthetic arms av' yer?
You fucking knob leach.

Arthur

The Thack wrote:
> Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, Sir 
> Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty years 
> on:
> 
> "The saddest thing about it all was that we really did believe we were 
> on the verge of something massive back then, something bigger than 
> anything we had ever seen at Old Trafford before. In the lads who 
> perished that day we had the makings of a side that, we believed, would 
> go on to conquer Europe. In much the same way that Hitler had some years 
> before, only not in quite so nasty a way. But you know what I mean. All 
> I recall is waiting for the plane to take off, then waiting for it to 
> come down again. I looked over at Dave Pegg, one of the hardest men in 
> the game back then, and let me tell you he was shitting a stick when the 
> plane took off. Meanwhile, across the aisle from me sat our trainer Tom 
> Curry and coach Herbert Whalley. Tom was whistling away as though he 
> were out for a stroll, saying everything would be alright; but Herbert 
> was trying to climb up the back of Matt Busby's coat for protection. All 
> I could do was pray that I'd survive the whole ordeal, have my life 
> spared so that one day I'd be able to go on and win 106 caps for 
> England, win the European Cup, score loads of goals like the one I got 
> against Portugal in the 1966 World Cup (rememer how I got the ball in my 
> own half, ran forward, beating three Portuguese defenders and rifled the 
> ball home blah blah blah...) and, of course, bore everyone senseless for 
> the next fifty years about how great that team might just one day might 
> possibly have eventually come to possibly be. But the real sad part 
> about it all, looking back now all these years later, is that with all 
> the stress of the aftermath, I went bald and had to play with that 
> ludicrous comb-over thing flailing above my bonce every time I legged it 
> down the wing. But at least I didn't go bald naturally, like that cunt 
> our Jack."
> 

post of the week.

lol. :)

scoopex pretended :
> The Thack wrote:
>> Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, 
>> Sir Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty 
>> years on:
>> 
>> "The saddest thing about it all was that we really did believe we were 
>> on the verge of something massive back then, something bigger than 
>> anything we had ever seen at Old Trafford before. In the lads who 
>> perished that day we had the makings of a side that, we believed, would 
>> go on to conquer Europe. In much the same way that Hitler had some 
>> years before, only not in quite so nasty a way. But you know what I 
>> mean. All I recall is waiting for the plane to take off, then waiting 
>> for it to come down again. I looked over at Dave Pegg, one of the 
>> hardest men in the game back then, and let me tell you he was shitting 
>> a stick when the plane took off. Meanwhile, across the aisle from me 
>> sat our trainer Tom Curry and coach Herbert Whalley. Tom was whistling 
>> away as though he were out for a stroll, saying everything would be 
>> alright; but Herbert was trying to climb up the back of Matt Busby's 
>> coat for protection. All I could do was pray that I'd survive the whole 
>> ordeal, have my life spared so that one day I'd be able to go on and 
>> win 106 caps for England, win the European Cup, score loads of goals 
>> like the one I got against Portugal in the 1966 World Cup (rememer how 
>> I got the ball in my own half, ran forward, beating three Portuguese 
>> defenders and rifled the ball home blah blah blah...) and, of course, 
>> bore everyone senseless for the next fifty years about how great that 
>> team might just one day might possibly have eventually come to possibly 
>> be. But the real sad part about it all, looking back now all these 
>> years later, is that with all the stress of the aftermath, I went bald 
>> and had to play with that ludicrous comb-over thing flailing above my 
>> bonce every time I legged it down the wing. But at least I didn't go 
>> bald naturally, like that cunt our Jack."
>> 

> post of the week.

> lol. :)

better than Mine then?

bwehehehehe

<+|80(

-- 
+ His Holiness Pope Pompous XVIII

"I am bent to know by worst means the worst. For mine own good all 
causes shall give way, I am in blood stepped in so far that, should I 
wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er" - /Macbeth/ Act 3 
Sc 4.

The Thack wrote:
> Speaking from his Cheshire home today about the Munich Air Disaster, Sir 
> Bobby Charlton had these poignant words to say about it all, fifty years 
> on:

<snip>

Finally, a REAL troll...

BlueRoo