United Road Take Me Home

What a week! Seven days ago I was trudging out of Old Trafford absolutely convinced that we'd blown the title. Forget all that counterintuive nonsense that I'd fooled myself with after the Portmouth game, this time I knew for certain that the game was up. Chelsea would thrash Newcastle. We'd probably bottle it against Milan, and end the season potless. Queueing for the tram I sent a text to the Mrs advising her to hide anything sharp or that could be fashioned into a noose. It was to be a dark weekend.

Fast forward to about 3 o'clock Sunday afternoon and I'm sprinting round the front room singing 'Mourinho are you listening?' and contemplating running over the road to hug my Geordie neighbour. Maybe it's not over after all.

Cut to Tuesday and the absolute delirium when Wayne belted that ball into the back of the net. Considered rationally we're still in a pretty tight spot for the second leg, but as I floated out of the ground, still singing away, rational analysis wasn't at the forefront of my mind. It didn't just feel like the tie was won, but the trophy as well.

Then comes Wednesday and the hammer blow that the Glazer's have seen fit to stick a fiver a game on the cost of my seat, taking my season ticket to a whopping £836. Of course I don't have to sit in such a prime piece of Old Trafford real estate, and even though i've only been in the seat a season, it'd feel like a wrench to relocate. But with most other teams freezing prices on the back of the windfall from the new TV deal you have to start questioning just how much you're willing to let your loyalty be taken for granted. Final decisions are yet to taken. Much thought remains to be done.

So to today, and I'm still mulling over what i'll do next season whilst fretting about our missing defence and wondering if there's truth in all these stories that Fergie and Saha have had a terminal bust-up. Everton score first. Worrying, but it's early, and we haven't got going yet. Then we do get going, dominating the game. But Everton score again, and Rooney's first touch is once again looking a bit rough.

But somehow, unlike at Portsmouth, I knew. I knew that we'd come back, not to just to equalise, but to win. And how. I'm sure eventually Phil Neville will allow himself a rueful smile, but he's too good a professional to do it for a while yet. Nonetheless, once a red, always a red. Mourinho has spent the week indulging in mind games, but the only important talking gets done on the pitch, and as we've seen today, with new regulations or the old ones, United are ready to be champions. Bring on Milan!