The insular, pampered world of professional football is ripe for parody. Yet it’s an open goal Gary Sinyor misses by a mile in a crude mockumentary about five gormless idiots reliving the unravelling of a potential trophy treble.
Taking predictable potshots at obscene wealth, institutionalised corruption and humourless German goalkeepers, United offers nothing on the beautiful game that Billy the Fish didn’t say on the pages of Viz three decades ago. Not only that but it indulges a strain of casual sexism, notably by dismissing one of its WAGs as a “PR assistant/slapper”
