Watching games on TiVo 6 hours off GMT, after work, and with a media blackout in full effect always feels strange – knowing the result’s occurred before you even hit play on the DVR.
Oh, how I looked forward to the match and having the house to myself while the wife was running errands.
The first 45 minutes felt like the umpteenth repeat of United’s own version of Groundhog Day the movie.
The usual storyline played out away from home, with an underwhelming midfield performance, some shaky defense, little going forward, and more concerns about Rooney’s play – all that we’ve grown accustomed to outside of Old Trafford.
I’ll save any ranting and raving against either Rooney or Gibson, as neither player are wide midfield players, and thus, their ineffectiveness should be taken with a grain of salt.
How sad is it to say the Tangerines were worthy 2-0 leaders at half time.
Full on Fergie hairdryer was due. Would it make a difference?
And that’s when the thought begins to creep in…
”Maybe I should just save myself time and agony and fast forward through the match, well, until I see that United score. Maybe I should watch the President’s State of the Union address live instead.”
Should I or shouldn’t I.
At this point, I can’t bear to watch another 45 minutes of Groundhog Day, yet somehow feel guilty if I don’t stick it out for the full 90 minutes.
Well, I’m not proud to say this, but I did fast-forward a bit – maybe the first 5 minutes after the interval – but I couldn’t bring myself to continue on.
As a Red, you knew, knew that United would score. Thus, the real question was could United score two, or better still score three to claim the full three points? A tall task indeed, but possible against such an aggressive side like Blackpool.
You knew the Tangerine back line would have gaps – it was more a question of if the Red Devils could take advantage of the holes.
Almost immediately after stopping the DVR’s fast-forward, I notice Sir Ryan Giggs on the left wing – ah, there’s hope. The evergreen wizard’s been unleashed on a match just crying out for some penetration from the flank by United, with Nani being maddeningly inconsistent with his runs and crosses in the first half.
And now, another form of Groundhog Day fast approaches, one that’s welcomed time and time again: the predictable loss of words for Giggs’ performance.
Class. Ageless wonder. Vintage performance.
How lucky are we, United brethren, to take in master class performance after performance even at the ripe old age of 37?
Seriously, if I’m ever feeling down, all I have to do is play back in my mind the wonder goal against the Gunners in the FA Cup Semi – the best goal ever, outside of Champions League magic, of course. Seeing it still sends chills down my spine more than a decade later.
And to think Giggs can still dribble through much younger defenders almost at will, on a day where United played poorly and needed a spark to remain unbeaten and go five points clear at the top of the table, is utterly remarkable.
Giggs didn’t do it alone, with Chicharito’s and Berba’s performance meriting equal praise, but I’ll write about those sublime strikers on another day.
Today is the day that Giggsy hath made, one where we all rejoice in him tearing you apart – yet again. Pure class never gets old, does it?
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Back at you after the FA Cup match on the weekend. Cheers.
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