MAKING A DIFFERENCE

There is a quotation on the front of the Manchester United ticket application book from Sir Alex Ferguson which reads: "It is amazing the difference the fans can make."

Everywhere, fans are voicing their concerns over the ownership of the club and the possibility that United might be heading west.

When Rupert Murdoch tried to buy the organisation back in the autumn of 1998, the attack was easier to target. Corralled by Michael Crick, the warts-and-all biographer of Alex Ferguson, they focused their energies on proving that ownership of United by BSkyB breached the terms of the Monopolies and Mergers Act.

Stephen Byers, then Trade and Industry Secretary and subsequently an unlikely hero in United circles, was convinced by highly sophisticated lobbying that Sky would use their ownership of the club as an inside track to further their broadcasting position. Thus was the once-Australian swagman seen off.

But there is no such argument in this case. Malcolm Glazer will not be creating an illegal monopoly if he buys out the club. He is entirely free to do so, provided he has the cash.

Unless Michael Crick's legal team can find one, there appears to be no law against a man who resembles a Smurf and wears the waistband of his trousers up under his armpits owning Manchester United. The only way he can be stopped is by persuading the other major shareholders not to sell to him.

Before even uttering the words "Malcolm" and "Glazer" in mixed company, I should have declared an interest. For the past 10 years I have been the owner of 130 shares in Manchester United. And I would rather like to hang on to them.

Not because they are a path to untold riches. Last year the dividend was £4.03, roughly enough to have the letters R, O, O and N ironed on to the back of a replica shirt in the Old Trafford mega-store.

No, I want to hang on to them because in a way which might well be derided by cynics and socialists alike, they maintain a soft, fond and distant illusion that the club is somehow still in the hands of their supporters. Maybe not as much as if it were a true members' organisation, such as Barcelona, in which the chairman is voted into (and, better still, out of) office via a secret ballot.

Maybe not as much as if it were a supporters' trust, owned co-operatively in the way of many a building society or life assurance company before carpet-bagging became the fashion.

But I can still turn up at the AGM and ask a difficult question of the board, I can still write to the chairman and be certain of a response. I can still visit Companies House, inspect the books and discover that one employee was last year paid more than £4.5 million. None of which I would be able to do were the club to become a private company.

Since, by my reckoning, Malcolm Glazer, with 19 per cent of the shareholding action, must already be accruing at least £1.5 million a year in dividends, what does he want with the rest?

We know why Rupert Murdoch wanted the club, it was the most certain way of securing future media rights. In Glazer's case, it seems the motivation is entirely, nakedly, financial.

Enough is clearly not a word in his vocabulary; he has eyes on more. Not just my £4.03; he wants the lot. And then some.

His sons talk of making more money from United by "extending the brand", which seems to me a tough proposition given that last year a friend saw someone picking rice in a paddy field in rural Cambodia wearing a Ryan Giggs T-shirt.

No, there is only one place that the cash the Glazer operation covets can be milked. It is the existing supporter base. Personally, I am not too keen on having my pockets picked. I am just hoping those flimsy 130 shares will provide sufficient protection from Florida's Artful Dodger.