When I was at University and Sky TV was a rare commodity, watching live football was always a bit of a hassle.
The one television that could show the games at the campus was located in the sports centre - not the bar - and, on Sunday afternoons, this became the domain of the hockey club, who trained there. Anyhow, in the early days of my time away from home, United were facing Liverpool in the Premier League. A colossal fixture in any calendar and one that has even neutral fans salivating in anticipation.
Except this was 1992 and Channel 4 had the foresight to show Serie A matches live. Football Italia was intriguing but felt a little like it was for the snobby set who preferred their football to be a tactical chess game rather than the blood and thunder of the English game.
It's clear that those who played hockey on their Sunday afternoons were perhaps not typical of the general sporting public but there was a fascination about this continental fare that was worrying. How could anybody rather watch Italian football ahead of the tribal clash of the titans that is United versus Liverpool? In those days, the pubs in the area simply didn't screen Sky games.
In a rare act of stubborness, I sat in front of the one TV showing the Old Trafford clash and refused to change channels. My pals from my dormitory, sensing the growing hostility from the others in the room munching on their sandwiches, decided to head home - even though two of them were Liverpool fans.
So it became a solo mission, having to put up with constant complaining about how the Italian game would be a far better watch, how everybody wanted to change channels and, most pertinently, the fact this was their area and nothing to do with me. As it turned out, Liverpool went into the break 2-0 up with Ian Rush managing to score at Old Trafford for the first time. Consequently, my mood wasn't being helped and I became even more determined to stick things out during a half-time break that seemed to last an eternity.