U.N.I.T.Y.

In the next week or two Manchester United will end the 2010/2011 Premiership Football season having won an unprecedented 19 (cue Paul Hardcastle sample) titles and pushing aside their most embittered rivals Liverpool FC. Under the management of Sir Alex Ferguson, United have been tended, pruned, fertilised and harvested year after year, making them the best team in the history of English Football and arguably, the World!

Watching yesterday's clash against closest rivals Chelsea, United displayed the collective body language of a battle MC spitting fire at a hapless new jack who'd just won a couple of clashes round the way and thought they were ready for the big time. The onslaught was relentless with the footballing equivalent of 'Yo mama' cusses boying off their shook opponents from start to end.

I couldn't help notice the parallels with hip-hop. From the swaggering fashions and big headphones of the arrival of the team; through the matching colour outfits, the formations; routines that have been worked out in rehearsal (just to merk the opponent); the testosterone-fuelling; the tribalism and gang-mentality, the rhythm, the dancing and... the street level creativity! The moves may be polished on the training ground, but they come from the street, from the battle. Working class creatives reaching for diamond-encrusted stars; is that really so different to the motivations of hip-hop's pioneers? Didn't motherfuckers just wanna get paid and have fun?!...and don't they always get hated on and labelled sell-out when they achieve it (if only by those who don't?)

Growing up, I turned my back on football in favour of other less conventional (cooler) pursuits. However, now that I am United with the beautiful game again, I finally realise why it's called that. Who's house? Reds house (and it's time to party!)

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