Gory, Gory Man United

Gory, Gory Man United
By Eddie G.

I don’t usually take much fancy at swearing at cursing at my television set. But for the past two hours, that was how I spent the dwindling of a Saturday night. Of course many questions undoubtedly come to mind, for instance, shouldn’t someone as upwardly mobile as Eddie G. be at some kinda pub in Bangsar getting drunk on a Saturday night? The answer? Yes, he should, but getting drunk needs money. (Well so does swearing and cursing in front of a television set, but at least he’s not paying for it)

On to the next question then. Why was Eddie G. cursing and swearing at his (or rather his Aunt’s) television set when the only sinful thing it ever did in its 3-year-warrantied life was to air forgivably stupid shows which include, but are not limited to, Gilligans’s Island and Akademi Fantasia? (Okay, maybe the latter isn’t that forgivable).

The answer will need you to use your imagination for a bit. Firstly, picture a beautiful, lush green field, totally untouched by the ravages of Man (and/or Woman if you ladies would like exercise your equal rights to bring yourselves down to our level) except for the fact an entire stadium had been built around it. Now picture a white rectangle being painted along the perimeter of the field, followed by the setting up of two large nets on either side. Now picture a white spherical implement called “the ball” placed in the middle of the field. Now picture 22 grown men desperately needing rest chasing the white spherical implement. Now picture 67000 over grown men desperately needing exercise watching the 22 grown men. In other planets, their inhabitants would call this “unethical, shameless torture employed by one of our twisted, sadistic deities for their amusement”. On Earth, we call it “sport” and we revere it. Still think we’re the most intelligent race in the Universe?

Before I digress any further, here’s what’s been eating at me. I spent the past two hours watching a football match. Not just any football match, mind you. I was watching my favourite team – the Red Dickheads, I mean, Devils – in action. Many have questioned my choice of football team in the past (then again, many have questioned my sanity, making the former issue a mere triviality), but one reason why I’m such an ardent supporter of Manchester United is basically because of the plain and simple fact that they play good football. The fact that I’ve been supporting Man U since they won the Treble in 1999 and don’t want to look like a bloody turncoat by supporting another team had never crossed my mind. Honestly!

So came the preview of the match. Manchester United could do less but win in order to keep their slim Championship hopes alive, thought that wasn’t really much of a concern. The experts sat down and talked about how the match could, should and perhaps even would turn out, and they all said “Manchester United will win this one, no doubt about it”. Perhaps I should have taken the term “experts” with a pinch of salt seeing as to how the real experts were on the pitch warming up instead of making their asses comfortable in some TV studio. Regardless, the winds held Man U in their favour.

But the winds turned out to be nothing more than hot air when both groups of "experts" failed to make their opponents, Blackburn Rovers, bite the dust. Before the match began, Man U looked solid and fearsome and Blackburn looked vaguely shaky. At the end of the match the Devils had let slip of two precious points towards their already ethereal Premiership title chase before a resolute Blackburn defence.

In other news, a Thierry Henry hat-trick gave Arse Wanker and his pimps at Highbury a commanding 4-1 win over Norwich City (they’re sponsored by Proton, what did you all expect? A Champions’ League spot?), moving them up to 2nd place and on level points with United. Bugger them.

As far as I’m concerned, to say that today’s performance by United was a lacklustre one would probably have the same effect as saying that the Niagara Falls can be found somewhere on Earth. I always thought myself naïve to believe that United actually still had a whiff of winning England’s Holy Grail of football, but tonight the realization came full and hard – like a good, heady kick to the genitals.

So what excuse does Sir Alex Ferguson have this time? No longer can he put the blame on injuries. Although winger Ryan Giggs was taken short earlier in the match, all the other United players, with exception to perhaps Ruud van Nistelrooy, were in tip top condition. Yet, despite fielding a star-studded cast in tonight’s game, United were constantly frustrated by a Blackburn side that cost (monetarily that is) only a mere fraction of theirs to put together.

Credit where credit’s due, the Rovers did exceptionally well and were kept from going behind by a combination of good saves from custodian Brad Friedel, the woodwork and a timely off-the-line clearance from Pederson in the first half. The second half wasn’t to be any better. United kept losing possession in midfield and their chances were half-hearted at best.

Having said all that, I have come to the conclusion that Manchester United really deserve NOT to win this season. Despite having lost only twice so far this season so far, they have drawn too many games for my liking. It really is something that’s painful for me to say, especially as a United fan. But the truth does hurt. Better luck next year, Fergie!

And my advice to Chelski, you “deserve” the title that you extravagantly and effectively paid for. Enjoy it while you can, because number one, everyone gets sick of playing Football Manager 04/05 sooner or later and Roman Abromovich will be no exception, and number two, next year the Premiership Title is going back (and in bubble-wrap I might add) to Old Trafford.