United Road Take Me Home

For days the papers had been full of talk of miracles and messiahs, of saviours and divine interventions. Only, to confuse religious seasons, they'd all been following the wrong star. While the world expected the Messiah to stage his comeback at St James Park on Saturday, he actually slipped into the worlds gaze at about 5:45 pm on Sunday afternoon. For truly was a saviour born on Sunday.

I'm no United anorak. My knowledge of what's going on in the reserve ranks stretches no further than knowing that Ollie's cutting his managerial teeth down there, and will no doubt by infusing his charges with an abiding understanding of the United way. Clearly, judging by Sunday, he's having some impact. So my first acquaintance with the name Federico Macheda came on Sunday morning when the Observer tipped him for a place on the bench on the strength of a reserve hat-trick at the Messiah and miracle free zone that is St James'. My second came when I read a favourable reference to his efforts in UWS who were tipping his star to rise at the expense of Carlos Tevez's.

My third came courtesy of Alan Keegan as he announced the substitution. Within ten minutes, after a couple of rocky first touches, he'd minted one of those immortal, imperishable moments that you'll carry to the grave and that make supporting United the luckiest card fate can deal. The way the entire ground bounced for those closing minutes was a joy to behold.

Was it the start of a beautiful career or a glorious one-off that he'll never reproduce? Who knows or, for now at least, cares. Momentum is all that matters. And in that instant, it swung back to us. Take your eyes off that fucking perch Rafa.