Poor, Poor Pompey

Early on watching today’s match, I had “A Few Minutes of Silence” from Paul Westerberg’s 14 Songs running through my head, an appropriate choice for the minute’s silence in honor of the Busby Babes and the ground’s atmosphere early in the match.

You could simply feel the impending doom amongst the compact Pompey formation while the crowd quietly waited for the inevitable thumping.

But, for all the United possession, the attack petered out in an over-reliance on tricks and unconnected crosses. How could it still be scoreless after nearly 40 minutes against the bottom-dwellers?

We all know Pompey will go down this season, with four different owners in six months, threats of administration, massive player turnover, and finally, the new manager caught at a brothel. Oh, you must feel for this club.

Poor Pompey indeed.

You knew the flood gates would open at some point, especially while watching the center backs arguing with the midfield about who should pick up Rooney when he drops back, for example. And, it’s absolutely no surprise that one Wayne Rooney would nod-home the goal that would break Portsmouth’s back. That’s 8 goals in 5 ½ games, bringing his tally to 23 on the season and keeping Wazza front-and-center in the Player of the Year debate.

This game was soooo anti-climatic that the only drama involved whether United would keep a clean sheet and what would be the ultimate score line, hoping Owen and Diouf would add to the growing goal differential on the season.

Today’s match goes down as an easy 5-0 victory, with three own goals perfectly symbolizing the struggles faced by Portsmouth on and off the pitch this season.

You just have to wonder, if on the team bus to the airport, somebody might slip in a copy of a certain Westerberg song.

A moment’s silence, please, in honor of Portsmouth’s fate. We feel for you.