Friday, January 26, 2007

Pipe down Pompey


The draw for the fourth round of the FA Cup, might not have all the romance and resonance of the third round, but it's still rich with exotic possibilities. Will we get another chance to travel to some poxy hovel like Northampton? Will it be another opportunity for Kieran Richardson to be outclassed by some third division outfit or other? Or will we get the chance to visit or be visited by Liverpool or city with away allocations generous enough to create a truly cracking atmosphere? Or will we get Portsmouth at home? That would be the latter then.
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Portsmouth are one of those teams that I forget I dislike quite as much as I do, until the first chorus of 'Play up Pompey' makes it all come flooding back. As a team they don't really bother me. Redknapp is doing a decent job of building a retirement community for ageing defenders, with Lauren the latest to move into a lovely secure maissonette by the sea, with its own panic button just in case you see David James running towards you with no chance of claiming the ball.
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James has somehow survived the fact that he has graced both city and Liverpool without becoming an object of total hatred. Even more incredibly, he now writes a column for the Observer, a position that I asssumed you had to be an Arsenal season-ticket holder to hold down. When Portsmouth played at OT earlier this season, the more mutton-headed faction among our support serenaded him with 'Murderers'. Considering that James was once involved in a fatal road crash, this was more than ordinarily insensitive, but considering he is a player of rare intelligence and sense, it reflected none too well on our fans.
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But several things do irritate me about Pompey, that bloke above for one, who you can gaurentee will be on screen more than Wayne Rooney tomorrow night. The self-congratulory way in which they applauded Arsenal for eviscerating them a couple of years ago also sticks in the craw. United fans salute opposition class when they see it, but we don't expect the BBC to eulogise us for years for doing so (it's a cert that it will be mentioned when we go four up tomorrow, and i'm equally sure they won't clap us, just sing 'Support your local team' a bit louder).
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Then there's Harry Redknapp himself. The draw was hardly made before he was going on about twice knocking United out before. Again it's a cert that the pre-game build up will concentrate on this angle, as if the peak of his career was Di Canio's freak goal. Let's hope he doesn't get to do it a third time, and that Rooney bags a jesters hat full.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Gutted After All


Losing’s never quite that straightforward though is it? 10 minutes in, United already in cruise control, the warm, fuzzy vibes from yesterday’s results still hovering over the front-room, I was the picture of tranquillity. Then Eboue sinks to the turf clutching his face at the slightest of brushes from Rooney’s hand and the old bile erupts to the surface and I remember that, though it’s easy to be all rational and dispassionate two days before the game, it’s another thing entirely in the heat of the battle.

And as the game wears on, every shot of Wenger remonstrating over some imagined injustice or other (though, Gary Neville was more than a little lucky to get away with that leg across Henry in the first-half, even Paddy Crerand would have to concede that), cranks up the venom even more, to the point where I’m virtually foaming at the mouth.

The pessimist in me could feel it coming at the end, but the pessimist in me always can, believing even when we’re four-nil up with two minutes to play that some horrifying capitulation is still on the cards. Tomorrow the table will still show up a six point gap, but for tonight giving Henry the opportunity for one of his smug goal celebrations still smarts.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Head over heart

Is it wrong to look ahead to this weekend’s pair of ‘Grand Slam’ matches in an entirely pragmatic frame of mind? Of course I’d like to see the minting of a few more immortal images to be filed in the memory bank alongside Keano barging through the Arsenal defence to slot home in 99 or Fergie doing his jig and pumping his fists to the United end in 2003 – but ultimately the desire for romance is outweighed by the simple need to maintain the gap between us and Chelsea.

Like most United fans I’m working on the assumption that Chelsea won’t drop a single point between now and the end of the season, giving us the opportunity to lose two games without totally screwing our chances of the title. This leads onto the thought of which games we’re most likely to squander the points in. For Chelsea to maintain an unbeaten surge between now and the end of the season would of course require them to beat us. This can’t be allowed to happen.

After being forced to put on a coronation for Chelsea at Old Trafford two years ago, and the horrible capitulation at the Bridge last season, the script demands that the tables are turned this year, and we will obliterate Mourinho’s hopes of three in a row on their own patch. Although technically this means that we can afford to lose two games before the meeting with Chelsea, I’d still be happier if we have a three point cushion lying spare, you know, just in case the script, as the cliché insists it often must, gets mislaid.

I suppose we have to eliminate Anfield and the Council House from the list of places where we’re happy to drop points. Liverpool surely can’t prove to be as abject – on and off the pitch – as they were at Old Trafford, but any title that involves defeat at Anfield is tarnished a little. As for city, it’s about time that we meted out the spanking that is so long overdue, and when could be a better time than with the title homing into view?

Which, of the big fixtures remaining – sorry Bolton fans, your visit in March doesn’t count – leaves Sunday’s game at the Emirates. Which is where my pragmatism comes in. Should we happen to lose on Sunday, I’m certain I’ll be gutted, but it won’t hurt in the same way defeat at Anfield or Stamford Bridge would. The pessimist in me has already written off our chances for Sunday, ludicrous considering the imperious way in which Paul Scholes performed last week and the fact that Rooney’s ill-luck in front of goal has to end sooner or later.

But the pessimist wins out. My biggest hope is that we match the result tomorrow. If Chelsea win, so must we; ditto a draw, and if the scousers should prevail, for once the cheeky smile on Wenger’s face at the end of the game won’t bother me a jot.

A Rooney hat-trick would be nice though, wouldn’t it?

Sunday, January 07, 2007

King Henrik?



So, many years after it was first mooted, this afternoon he finally arrives at Old Trafford. Back when he was taking the Scotland by storm and transforming a two horse race into a canter for one, you could barely chuck a stone at Old Trafford without hitting someone who had it on unimpeachable authority that he was United bound in the summer. Of course, like so many other done deals, the speculation proved entirely free of any proximity to the truth. But this afternoon he'll stroll out from the tunnel to meet the acclaim of a not quite full house. But enough about Martin O' Neill, today's all about Henrik Larsson. (Though, before we get to Henrik, who can forget O'Neill's priceless cameo's in recent World Cups, playing just off Alan Hansen, blindsiding Lineker with his unexpected shimmies from left-field)?

Larsson's affair with United looks set to be a fleeting one, but I'm confident that it will be consummated with a goal against Villa's rather leaky defence this afternoon. In fact were it not for the thrill and the lure of seeing Larsson perform in a red shirt, I know that I'd be trudging along this afternoon more out of a sense of duty than anything else. (That said, the terms of the season ticket that Malcolm kindly agreed for me stiplulate that I was paying for a ticket regardless.)

Indeed, Villa twice at home in the space of seven days would normally have me plunging the depths, but the Larsson factor should put a bounce in my step and carry me through games that have an atmosphere that usually owes a lot to chlorofoam. Villa fans will regale us with the traditional hymns of visitors suffering a dearth of originality and wit. United will respond by snoring a little bit louder. Hopefully that pattern will be broken by the dazzling performance from our newest old codger.

While Ronaldo has quite righly soaked up the plaudits in recent weeks, it has to be noted that the platform for our so far, so brilliant season is the rejuvenation of Scholes and Giggs. Scholes continues to be one of the most elusive players on the pitch, inhabitiing his own little time zone, where the seconds seem to freeze, allowing him freedom to just drift past opponents. It's probably the gift of a magnetic first touch that cushions the ball with a delicacy that borders on the miraculous.

Giggs has been on equally splendid form. The familiar groans of derision that for a long time soundtracked his game, have long been silenced (latching onto John O Shea at the moment instead), and the accuracy of his passing is a thing of wonder and beauty. Such has been the form of this pair and Ronaldo that it's shielded the lumbering, labouring performances of Wayne Rooney from too much scrutiny. Should a dip in form occur - and with the title so delicately poised, we pray it doesn't - Rooney can expect to come in for a fierce interrogation from the press.

For now, that fear can subside and we look forward to Larsson removing Chelseas's lingering grip on the title before he returns home in the spring.

P.S. Resepct to the Liverpool fans for their vehement show of disgust at the Sun at the start of last nights game. What's the betting United fans sing 'Justice for the 39' today though?