United Road Take Me Home

I rarely travel to away games, particularly ones in that there London - and if you think that robs me of the right to pontificate on United related matters, well I'm partially inclined to agree, but degrees of fandom is an issue I don't want to dwell on here. Anyway, this meant I could skip the post-mortem from Upton Park - which no doubt consisted mostly of Keys and Gray chuckling at what a wag Jose is and how justified he was in his smug conviction that Chelsea would ease past United before too long - and get stuck straight into Deal or No Deal.

.

Before long I was wrapped up in the game and all the foul-mouthed rage that had filled the living room a few minutes earlier, had evaporated quicker than a 9 point lead. When the banker weighed in with a penultimate offer of £41,000 I was screaming at the TV urging her to take it. When she declined I could sense implosion looming. But it never materialised, and by the end, only the 250,000 and 10,000 remained. The banker offered in excess of 100, 000 (the precise amount escapes me) and, quite sensibly, she dealt. Quids in, and the fact that if she'd have held her nerve she would have scooped the 250,000 which was sitting plump in front of her throughout the game, was a mere technicality.

What does all this have to do with United? Well, if at the start of this season you'd have offered me a two point lead over Chelsea going into Christmas, no real injury issues - in fact the treatment room clearing out in preparation for the festive season -,Henrik Larsson in the wings poised to wreak havoc in the Premiership, I would have said 'Deal' faster than Ronnie tearing down the touchline. In short I'd have taken the £100,000 and not let the fact that it could have been 250K bother me, just like I refuse to let the fact that it could still be a five point lead steal all my pre-festive cheer.

So, United two points clear of the rent-boys? Deal or no deal?

Deal