1997 was a wonderful time. The Britpop, the Labour government before the unpleasantness, the sportswear, the Ryan Giggs before the unpleasantness—What A Time To Be Alive.
Things are different now, of course, what with all the unpleasantness surrounding Ryan Giggs, Tony Blair, and the Britpop. But, let’s pretend it’s not different. For five-and-a-bit minutes, let’s cast our mind back to the good old days, when advertising agencies would create dystopian, Tim Burton rip-off claymation epics, in an effort to shift some not bad football boots.
Let’s remember when a Play-Doh effigy of Jimmy Hill could call Ryan Giggs “goody two-boots” without prompting so much as a snigger. When you could joke about Manchester City being run by a shady figure with an underground lair and not worry about it perhaps actually being true maybe. Let’s go back, let’s go way back.
Good luck with the Wales job, Ryan. You could win the World Cup with them and it wouldn’t top this.
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