The only chance I ever got at holding one of the Glazer family to account in person for what they were doing to Manchester United came in Tampa, Florida, in 2009, a few days before the Super Bowl between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Arizona Cardinals. As interrogations go, mine was rather feeble.
I was there for the game but I noticed that, as part of the week’s build-up to it, Bryan Glazer was speaking at an NFL Kids Day. The event was held outdoors, in the grounds of the Raymond James Stadium and it was open to the media so I went along and listened to Bryan speak.
As he left, I wandered over to speak to him. Everything was relaxed until I introduced myself as an English sports journalist and asked him about his family’s stewardship of United. Glazer’s smile stiffened and then it disappeared.
He didn’t say a single word. He did not break his stride. He glanced meaningfully at a security guy, who was part of his entourage, and the security guy stepped across me and blocked my path. Glazer kept walking, climbed on to a golf buggy and was driven away.
Seventeen years down the line and few have got more out of the Glazers than that stiffened smile – although Avram Glazer did tell an audience of financiers at Deutsche Bank’s inaugural Sports Investment Conference in London recently that sports teams at United’s level are not dependent on success on the pitch for commercial power. He would say that.
That went down well among United supporters, obviously, and as United languish in the Premier League’s bottom three, one point off the foot of the table, anger against the Glazer ownership, which has cost the club more than £1billion in debt interest payments and shareholder dividends, is rising to a crescendo again.
Matheus Cunha (left) and Bruno Fernandes come to terms with another disappointing Manchester United performance after the 4-4 draw with Aston Villa at Old Trafford on Sunday
The United fans made clear what they think of their owners at Old Trafford
Anger against the Glazers has been fuelled by disenchantment with Sir Jim Ratcliffe, the minority owner, whose involvement in the football operation has deepened and widened the disillusionment of the fanbase with the people who are fiddling while United burns in decline. It is 40 years since United were in the relegation zone after more than nine games.
‘We Don’t Want A New Stadium, We Want New Owners,’ a banner in the Stretford End read. The idea of getting rid of the Glazers and Ratcliffe has become a panacea for United supporters. It is seen as the key to the club’s recovery, the key to everything, but the struggle to dislodge them faces huge obstacles.
The protests are redoubling. Old Trafford was awash with green and gold, the colours of tradition and disaffection at the club, for the chaotic draw against Aston Villa on Sunday afternoon and the stadium echoed to deafening chants calling for the Glazers to get out of United. Battalions of green and gold balloons took to the air before kick-off.
The problem is that the Glazers do not care. They run the club by remote control from Florida. They are detached. They always have been. I have watched protest marches before and seen supporters gathering at the start, outside the Tollgate pub a mile or so from the ground, in impressive numbers. They have achieved little.
It is not impossible for fans to oust or defy owners. The power of supporters was at its most inspiring when it faced down the plans of Manchester City, Chelsea, Spurs, United, Arsenal and Liverpool to join a breakaway European Super League in 2021.
In Germany, some years ago, when plans were revealed to stage Monday night games, there was widespread outrage at the idea of supporters having to travel to games after work. Dissent and disobedience followed.
Tennis balls were thrown on to pitches during games, a chorus of vuvuzelas filled the air, remote-controlled cars sped on to the playing surface. Monday night games were dropped.
Liverpool removed co-owners Tom Hicks and George Gillett in October 2010 through a combination of an independent board, a High Court legal battle, and pressure from the Royal Bank of Scotland, all underpinned by huge supporter demonstrations and campaigns against the US owners.
I once confronted Bryan Glazer over his family’s stewardship of United. His smile stiffened and then disappeared
Supporters have had enough – but how far are they willing to go to drive the Glazers out?
And on a smaller, but no less heroic, scale, Blackpool supporters staged a four-year boycott of their team’s matches, starting in 2015, that saw the average attendance at Bloomfield Road drop from 10,000 to 2,500 and was critical in the removal from the club of the much-loathed owners, the Oyston Family.
That Blackpool protest movement is the subject of a soon-to-be-aired documentary on Sky called Don’t F*** With Fans. One of the main lessons that the programme preaches is the need for unity in a fanbase if the protests are to have any chance of succeeding.
Achieving that unity has already been made harder at clubs like United because of the way the loyal supporter base is being diluted by the war on traditional season-ticket holders and the move towards attracting more day-trippers and tourists, who will spend more for the price of admission and more at the club superstore.
Some fans’ groups called for a mass walkout in the 21st minute of the United-Villa game, to mark 21 years of the Glazer ownership, but only a handful of home fans observed it. The popular YouTuber SaeedTV was one of them.
‘I did my bit,’ he posted on X as he stood outside the stadium almost alone. ‘Unfortunately fans don’t care enough. Glazers OUT INEOS OUT.’
Part of the problem the call for boycotts faces is that tourists don’t do protest. They have paid too much for their seat to walk out midway through the first half.
Many of the calls for a mass walkout also come from fans on social media, who are not match-going supporters. Fans who do go to the games are, understandably, reluctant to walk out when they have paid for their seats. They also know that if they were to give up their season tickets, the club would be delighted.
Some match-going fans started a tongue-in-cheek campaign aimed at armchair fans who have been trying to preach to them how best to get the Glazers out. ‘Turn off your television sets after 21 minutes,’ was the gist of it.
But the fact remains that unity is strength. It is the only chance supporters have of moving the dial at a club as big as United. History says a form of co-ordinated, well-orchestrated, mass-participation peaceful disobedience is the only way.
Unity is strength. It is the only chance supporters have of moving the dial at a club as big as United
Some fans’ groups called for a mass walkout in the 21st minute of the United-Villa game, to mark 21 years of the Glazer ownership, but only a handful of home fans observed it
It has to be something that affects the spectacle and, more specifically, the optics for television viewers. And it has to be something that affects them consistently.
Many Premier League clubs don’t care about match-going fans anymore but if the television product is affected, if the broadcasters become concerned, if sponsors start to think that they might actually be damaged by association with the disaffection at Manchester United, then maybe at least a little pressure would be brought to bear on an ownership group.
The odds are stacked more and more heavily against supporters who wish to effect change. But the opposition to the European Super League showed it could be done. The Blackpool fan boycott showed it could be done. Liverpool supporters’ demonstrations against Hicks and Gillett showed it could be done.
It is a question of whether the will exists. Of whether the unity exists. And of whether there are simply too many of the new breed of fan who would rather take selfies and queue for merchandise than turn the club back into an institution that cares more for trophies than revenue.
