Dearest Joel
It's lovely to hear from you. I heard you were my landlord, and God knows I did hear muffled noises from upstairs, and some disturbing moans, but you never wrote, you never called. Till now. Your dad seems to have been great fun. Now I thought this letter was about the clarification of some details of the offside rule, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that no, you have changed your mind about fecking up the game I love. Great news.
Thanks so much, Joel for your kindness and benevolence. You seem to have been deeply in love with football and the club for the last fifteen minutes. So much in love that you spent three years secretly beavering away upstairs, never a word from you then, you sly devil! You must have thought about me and my fellow fans a lot while planning a Super League to line your pockets and that of your family and buddies, and make European football non-competitive and shite.
Are you going to keep this little line of passionate communication up? Maybe you will be writing me every week, now, checking on how the wounds have healed? Oh and yes. Yes, that's very true. You totally failed to show enough respect for the deep-rooted traditions of Manchester United and football. And now you will change? And now you are sorry? But - I don't care. You are sorry for the wrong reasons, buddy.
This is the world’s greatest football club and you are not part of it. You are only the cancer in its belly. Leave voluntarily or there is a reckoning about to happen, and at the end you won't be writing me letters anymore.
#GlazersOut