As these things always do, this week's unveiling of a new shirt – in this case the garment to be worn away from home in 2018/19 – has provoked lively debate on the information superhighway, as I believe it's called.
This year's shirt, fetchingly modelled on the right by our Greg, may not be to everyone's taste, but we at Coconuts salute United's nod to the history of our club and our city in the incorporation of a bridge motif.
'This year's jersey,' says the club, 'pays homage to the current club crest and its connections with Magdalene Bridge, previously known as the Great Bridge, located in the centre of the city between Magdalene Street and Bridge Street.'
You know, one of the bridges that are crowded with smart young men brandishing clipboards, hoping in vain to persuade me to part with a month's wages in return for a brief outing on a river already dangerously full of suckers. Sorry, that should be 'full of punters'.
'The bridge, which was built in 1823,' continues the club, 'marks the site of an important Roman-era river crossing that provided all routes, both long-distance and local, with a crossing point across the river Cam.'
'But,' cries Disgusted of Prickwillow, 'Magdalene Bridge looks nothing like that! It hasn't got any castellations!'
That's true; the present bridge is not castellated. What we need to know here is that the motif on the shirt borrows from part of the city of Cambridge's coat of arms, which in turn forms part of the classic United crest beloved of 100 Years of Coconuts.
No need to mention names, but one Coconutter is so enamoured of that badge that he's had it painted on a wall in his house. Cast your eyes immediately to the right for this extraordinary piece of mural art.
At this point, we need to acquaint ourselves with the coat of arms in question (pictured below, right).
A proper description of the arms, in heraldry talk, is: 'Gules a Bridge of one arch surmounted by three Towers Or in chief a Fleur-de-Lys Gold between two Roses Argent the base barry wavy of the last and Azure thereon three Ships each with one mast and yardarm the sail furled also Sable.'
Need a translation? It goes something like this: Red background; a gold, single-arch bridge with three towers; above, a gold fleur-de-lys and two silver roses; below, wavy black lines and three black, single-masted ships with yardarms, their sails furled, on a blue background.
Let's not concern ourselves with the fiddly bits on top or the seahorses either side (although we prefer to think of the latter as hippocampi, creatures that, legend tells us, pulled Neptune's chariot). You can see quite clearly that the away shirt motif is a representation of the bridge in the coat of arms.
Have a look at the shield displayed in The Story of the U's, Coconuts' mini-museum in the Supporters' Club, pictured bottom right.
Again we have the bridge and again we have the fleur-de-lys and two white roses (all three symbolic of charters granted to Cambridge in medieval times).
Again we have the three ships, harking back to the time when the town was largely surrounded by water and much of its trade was river-borne.
Why is the bridge depicted as castellated? Your guess is as good as ours; maybe the Great Bridge did have castellations when the coat of arms was granted in 1575, although it's unlikely: all bridges in this location were built of timber until a stone crossing was put up in 1754.
If you're only interested in football and shirts, you can stop reading now, but we're not finished. We at Coconuts are equally fascinated by the history of our wonderful city and its buildings, and the story of the Great Bridge is immensely rewarding.
It goes back to at least the ninth century. By 1279, it was in such bad repair that carts often fell into the river, despite promises made by the sheriff (either Walter Shelfhanger – fantastic name! – or William le Moyne) that he would use the proceeds of a heavy 'pontage' tax he had imposed to rebuild it in stone.
He did nothing of the sort, preferring to patch the bridge up with hurdles and timber and probably pocketing the moneys he'd pulled in.
The bridge was rebuilt in 1483, and by 1494 a house had been built on it. In the 16th century, women said to have too much to say for themselves – judged 'scolds' by the town's elite, all of whom were men – were plunged into the filthy river on a 'ducking stool' that hung from the centre of the bridge.
At last, in 1754, along came James Essex, builder and architect of this parish, to design and erect the stone bridge that preceded today's iron construction, at the enormous cost of £1,609.
One last thing: Essex was married to Elizabeth Thurlbourne, daughter of a Cambridge bookseller. Is it stretching credulity to wonder if she was an ancestor of Ron Thulbourn, licensee of the Rose & Crown in Teversham and a director of Cambridge United Football Club between 1950 and 1960?
This blog was corrected and updated on 6 July 2018.