United Road Take Me Home

The problem with doing something like a blog is that by preserving your thoughts you are constantly being reminded of how idiotic many, let's face it most, of your opinions actually are. I'm always mentally urgiing caution, counselling against venting spleen in the immediate aftermath of a defeat. Then i log on, split open the spleen and let the vitriol pour out.

I could cover my tracks of course; some judicious use of the 'edit-post' facility could, for example, make my intemperate words from last week questioning Wayne Rooney's reputation, evaporate in an instant. But this seems like an act of bad faith; better to let the words stand - constantly stoking the flames of embarrasment in my face, as a reminder for the next time i think of writing something so patently ridiculous.

So the ghost of Turf Moor is exorcised for now and suddenly all is rosy in the red garden again, right? Not quite. Valencia may finally have put in a pin-point cross, but this particular one-man jury is still deliberating about his overall quality. The whole result has to be seen in context - flimsy opponents with a softer-centre than a Cadbury's Eclair.

Good to see Darren Fletcher getting props in the press though. And some mention must be made of the fact that Owen finished with no little aplomb. Shame he felt the need to blank the press-pack and moan about them caning him. Maybe he'll have his people knock out a glossy pamphlet pointing out that he ain't finished yet.