Sweet and Tender Hooligan.

Another game, another pitch invasion. Now that the dust has finally settled on Friday night's pulse-pounding, Earth-shattering, epoch-defining action (thanks to Stan Lee for the superlatives, a top, top red) we can brush ourselves down, stick the highlights DVD back on the shelf and start looking forward to the next round. The second round of the FA Cup. Way back on August 20th 2005, when me and that fella above went to our first FC game, it would have seemed a dream that just over five years later we'd be on the pitch celebrating victory over a team 95 league places above us. And what a victory; hard-fought, skillful, last-minute and, naturally, controversial. All those qualities are coded into the red DNA; some things were not left behind when we left Old Trafford in 2005. Passion, noise and a commitment to attacking football came with us. And thank god they did. You wouldn't expect the underdogs, having surrendered a two-goal lead, to carry on attacking. You'd forgive them for hoofing it into the stands; an additional money-spinning replay only 14 seconds away. But that's not the FC way. That's not the United way. And thank fuck for that.