Home and Dry

My pre-match jitters were intensified by being forced to watch the match on TiVo alone in the evening after multiple client meetings today.

There’s something incredibly strange about going into “media blackout” mode in the States and actually avoiding such a massive result. There’s no checking e-mail or the cell phone. It’s straight home, grab some dinner, and game on. Such is the life where Champions League matches kickoff midday.

Final: FC Porto 0 – 1 Manchester United.

What an audacious SCORCHER! We’re through to the Semis for the third year running!! And, as if it couldn’t get better, Mr. “bulge in the old onion bag” appears headed for retirement or the sack (http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/blog/2009/apr/15/tommy-smyth-us-soccer-espn). Ding, dong the SmYth is dead. Quick, better play the PowerBall while the mojo's still hot.

Three things stood out from the match.

First, and yes, the goal will be played over and over on TVs and YouTube throughout the world for the days and weeks to come. Ronnie thinks it’s his best goal, and who could argue with him, as it’s a well-worthy match-winner. And did you see the ESPN feed panning the United supporters after the replay of Ronnie’s Wondergoal?! One supporter looked hilarious, as the camera caught him just as the goal was scored and you could just see the shocked, “pinch-me-I’m dreaming” expression change to utter-and-uncontrolled joy. What a fantastic reaction-shot. Hopefully someone uploads it – hint, hint – to YouTube that’s got the time.

Second, welcome back, Rio. Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back. If we just erase the past five games, this is the Ferdinand-Vidic partnership of old. How long did you think the Keystone Cops would inhabit our beloved backline?! The shaky defense streak ends, much like the clean sheet record and United becoming the first English team to win at the Estadio do Dragao. Halleluiah.

Third, the Christmas freakin’ tree formation actually worked! Okay, okay, it was more of a 4-2-3-1, but it did close down Porto’s attacking avenues. The formation worked largely because of the discipline of the midfield, especially Mr. Rooney, who wins my “marvelously-composed” performer of the match. Ah, the ever-emotional Wazza. You still saw his disappointment with missed crosses or lost possession, but you never thought he was anywhere near the boil tonight. Likewise, all players seemed to make an positive effort toward each other with their body language tonight, without the petulance, as Fergie’s recent pokes at players paid dividends.

We’ll keep the red flag flying high, ‘coz we’re home and dry and Man United will never die.

We Shall Not Be Moved

“I don’t think it (game) was extraordinary. Manchester United were very nervous, didn’t play particularly well, but it doesn’t matter – they got the result. You know, what a crisis they are in – out of the last fifteen league games they’ve only won thirteen.”
~ Pat Dolan, on Setanta Sports Live’s post-match analysis

Sometimes it’s easy to loose perspective, especially after keeping fourteen clean sheets in a row only to concede to eleven goals in five games, including two losses and the two terrible away goals to Porto. The continued nervousness amongst the backline should concern us but it is a far cry from a crisis, as Mr. Dolan’s sarcasm so correctly notes.

Rough patches happen to everyone at least once per year and this dip in form won’t matter if we keep nicking results. Points are points, oh Zen-master.

Today Fergie went to a 4-3-3 with Berbatov, Tevez, and Rooney across the front and Scholes, Carrick, and Park across the midfield. No Evra, Ferdinand, or Ronaldo to start. Admittedly, with Berba healthy and Sundlerland prone to putting at least 9 behind the ball, it was the obvious formation of choice.

Early on we were fairly composed and patiently penetrated Sunderland’s defense. The game had the hallmarks of a lop-sided result, as Berba coolly-controlled the ball out wide to Rooney, who’s inch-perfect cross was delicatedly-headed home by Scholes.

Surely, another goal would seal the result and such was the traveling supporters confidence that they began breaking out older songs, ones at-best only tangentially-related to anything on the pitch.

We move from slagging Alan Shearer to the Monkey’s Daydream Believer:

F**k off, Alan Shearer,
Oh what can it mean, to a,
Sad geordie bastard, and a,
Shite football team.

To the next song about the former-Sunderland manager and United captain-of-lore:

Oh Keano's f*in' magic,
He wears a magic hat,
And when he saw Old Trafford,
He said I fancy that,
He didn't sign for Arsenal,
Or Blackburn 'coz they're shite,
He signed for Man United,
'Coz they're f*ing dynamite.

You get the picture: everything was going to plan. Sunderland defended deep and isolated Jones and Cissé up front, while United patiently picked apart the Black Cat defense. An afternoon stroll appeared likely.

Somewhere around 30 minutes it changed.

Maybe it was Vidic’s miscommunication with Foster for a gift-corner. Maybe it was merely going down a goal forced the Sunderland to commit some players forward. Or maybe it was both.

So, while the away supporters considered their vast singing options, Sunderland’s confidence grew, the back four’s nerves surfaced yet again, culminating in Edwards’ cross hitting Jonny Evans and caroming straight out off the post, only to be cleared out of the box by Park.

At half-time it’s still: Sunderland 0 – United 1.

We started the second half brightly, with good attacking possession, but again, the defense seemed anxious and uncertain, ultimately leading to Sunderland’s goal, which came off an entirely-defendable cross.

A poor read, step and whiffed-punch from Foster - what's up with potential England keepers anyway?! - and an equally poor reaction from Evans let Kenyon Jones put in his second-effort, after he muffed his first-touch header. Sunderland 1 – United 1. Game on, as it was yet another bad goal to concede.

We responded well in attack, with Scholes and Rooney both firing chances narrowly wide. You could just feel a second goal in United, with it likely coming from either of my co-Men of the Match, Mr. Scholes and Mr. Rooney.

Who knew it’d come from “Macheda the Magician” (http://soccernet.espn.go.com/index?cc=5901), the 17 year old savior for United, who hadn’t played a minute of first-team action not that long ago. It’s now two games played, two match-winning goals scored for his budding career. Unbelievable.

There will be much debate whether Carrick’s shot was intentionally redirected or simply caromed off our hero.

Sir Alex said after the match: ''He has got something special about him, the boy. I haven't seen the goal, but one of the players said he actually tried it. He side-footed it as it came to him. It's that quick-thinking that goal scorers have got. He has just got that instinct.''

Regardless whether the touch was intentional or not, there’s no doubting the boy’s fast assimilation of a Solskjær-like, super-sub status within the club. His goal knocked the wind out of Sunderland and effectively rendered today’s verdict: game, set, match.

In the days ahead, you wonder what song will Peter Boyle compose for, and which of the nicknames – “Mach the Knife” or “Kiko the Kid” perhaps – will stick with, this young prodigy. All we know now is his impact is beyond massive. Already.

So what was it about that crisis at United?!

When asked: “Are United playing like champions?”

Pat Dolan summarized the mood here: “Well, they’re winning like champions. Six point out of the last two games – that’ll do for Fergie.” That’ll do indeed.

We shall not, we shall not be moved,
We shall not, we shall not be moved,
Just like the team, that's gonna win the football league - again!
We shall not be moved.

Ronaldo Rejects Real Rumors

Well it's about freakin' time. What a relief. I'm quite pleased that yesterday's theory was blown out of the water today.

Now just we need to settle the Tevez saga once and for all. One down, one to go.

The Great Escape

Seventeen year old Federico Macheda’s injury-time touch, turn, and curling, clinical finish capped a most improbable come-back and provided a lovely counter-punch to Liverpool’s victory at Craven Cottage. If you thought “Federico who?!” you wouldn’t be alone today, as you can only guess how many folks across the globe learned for the first time that he joined United from Lazio’s academy in September 2007.

This result also, and most unfortunately, comes against the backdrop of more serious rumors of Ronaldo leaving, including several articles in The Guardian, such as Cristiano Ronaldo ready to leave for Real Madrid in £75m transfer. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2009/apr/03/cristiano-ronaldo-real-madrid-transfer)

You can just sense the short- and long-term implications playing out now for the club over these next few months. So many trophies, so much young talent, and several critical question marks brewing in the wings give this moment an undeniable historic weight.

First, though, what an absolutely storybook debut for the young Federico, as his goal may be remembered as the seminal moment should United capture the Premier League title yet again this term. The Guardian’s Daniel Taylor aptly compared the goal’s potential gravity to Brucie’s header against Sheffield Wednesday in 1993 – a good and hopeful comparison. For me, I also see parallels in the foreshadowing of a great career, much like Rooney’s late thunderbolt against Arsenal as a sixteen year old sub for Everton.

Interestingly, Sir Alex’s mentioned before the match that "The boy Macheda is developing at a great rate of speed now, his performances for the reserves have been very good, he's a natural finisher and he'll definitely be on the bench at least with Welbeck." Thank God for the natural finisher today.

One of Fergie’s many impressive qualities is his willingness to give young talent a chance based on merit, even during the season’s most critical, come-from-behind moment to date. Score one for the gaffer and the lad.

Second, maybe it’s just me, but something seems amiss with the way United is handling the pressure of the current campaign, despite today’s victory. Players look mentally fatigued, quite possibly from added travel this year or possibly from some internal tension. Not animosity between players, mind you, but some lingering, unresolved questions playing upon the psyche of United.

Consider that, arguably, nobody within the club is more beloved than Carlos Tevez, who remains unsigned despite stating his long-term interest in staying with the club much to his agent’s chagrin.

Consider that nobody is more important to United’s attacking vigor than Ronaldo, who continues his transfer soap opera through his agents and family, with more credible rumors emerging now.

Consider that nobody is more important to United than Sir Alex Ferguson, who, at the age of 67, cannot take his health for granted no matter how hard we pray for him.

Throughout the year, I’ve felt all along that Sir Alex convinced Ronaldo to play out the year, as United wouldn’t budge about any transfers. I also suspect that Sir Alex likely pledged to re-address talks about his future after this season, as SAF bought time to convince Ronnie his best interests lay at Old Trafford.

However, Ronaldo's two primary reasons for wanting to leave United remain valid, as quoted in his interview with Bruno Prata in Publico last August: “I felt that maybe I needed a new challenge. I never hid the fact that I wanted to play in Spain, at Real Madrid in particular, and I thought this could be the right moment... Apart from the challenge, everyone realizes that Spanish and Portuguese culture and lifestyle are more similar.”

Ronaldo chose not to leave against United’s wishes this year, but what about this summer? If the rumors appearing now have any credibility, how far will Ronnie go this off-season to make his dream move a reality?! Remember, he didn’t rule out moving to Madrid in the future because "nothing is set in stone."

Love him or hate him, but everyone at United knows Ronaldo is irreplaceable within the current squad. You just wonder if, along with a more demanding schedule, the current uncertainties weigh on the players minds.

Today, we witnessed one great escape at the hands of a youngster. Tomorrow, we hope that two escapes will be thwarted through new contract extensions.

Here’s to singing about That Boy Ronaldo and That Man from Argentina for many years to come. Cheers.

March Madness

After winning the Carling Cup against Spurs and categorically dismantling Fulham to reach the FA Cup semi-finals, our dips in form against Newcastle and Intenazionale culminated in the utterly gut-wrenching loss to Pool this past weekend.

Having attended the Inter and Liverpool matches, I’ll share some memories from my experience and make some observations about moving forward.

United 2 – Inter 0
Lovely result, but the lads offered Inter a real opportunity here. A well-timed goal could have swung the momentum and result in an entirely different direction. Yet, it says something about the squad that we can play sub-par and still create more chances than the Seria A leaders.

There were way too many cheap turnovers on the night, worsening a trend that started against Newcastle. Oh the dangers of becoming infatuated with flair football.

The atmosphere in the North Stand was fantastic, with everyone singing all game long and hanging on every touch of the ball. You felt everyone’s collective joy in attack and anxiety at how cheaply we lost possession, as the result was not a forgone conclusion, even up 2-0, with away goals constantly a threat.

Here are my Top Three Match Moments, starting in descending order.

Number 3: “He comes from Serbia.” What an absolutely brilliant and critical header from Vidic. Watching replays, from the field level camera, you can appreciate how easily he loses marks and attacks the ball in the air. Hey, Viera, is that your jockstrap lying in the penalty area?!

Number 2: Singing songs – “you’re not special anymore” – at the attention-hungry Jose Mourinho standing along the touchline for the entire match. Somehow, even from the top of the North Stand, his persistent presence irritated me more than expected. Chin up, Jose.

And drum roll please…

The Number 1 match moment is entirely obvious: Ronaldo’s header to increase the lead to 2-0 and relieve our collective flashbacks from Porto ‘04. From our vantage point, we took in the joyous “Viva Ronaldo” and the related scarf-waving across the stadium – lovely, lovely site to behold indeed. Ronnie’s courage going after headers is under-appreciated and overshadowed by his speed and footwork. Brave lad, That Boy Ronaldo.

Pre-Match Thoughts: United v Liverpool
Beforehand, I wondered what formation Fergie would employ, with the likely candidate being the obvious 4-4-2. Last year, however, we played a 4-5-1 with Rooney as the sole striker to start, as we closed down Gerrard in the hole and controlled tempo, but if memory serves me, Tevez was sick that weekend, so this may have forced Fergie’s hand. Regardless, the formation worked and in retrospect may have been the better choice last Saturday.

You also knew that Scholes and Giggs would start on the bench, given their participation mid-week in the Champions League, with Park on the wing, Fletcher or Anderson added in the middle, and Tevez to possibly replace Berbatov because of his knack for big goals in tight games such as this.

Pre-Match at The Bishop’s Blaize
The 7:00 AM alarm comes way too early but is deemed necessary for us, The Bishop’s Blaize virgins. Nobody in our group is absolutely certain when we need to be in queue for such an early kickoff, so we’re not taking any chances, as we’re 35 minutes early and find ourselves in the front-half of the line when the doors open at 9:00 AM.

Once in, we move to the elevated portion of the bar, grab our pints, and watch how quickly the pub fills with a sea of supporters. Immediately several lads try to get the group going in song, but there’s only scattered responses, as the lads focus on obtaining and drinking pints. Early days, man. Give it a few minutes.

Once the pub reaches a critical mass, with folks still pouring in, the famous Peter Boyle starts orchestrating the singing that made this pub famous amongst United supporters.

Of course, the highlight of the revelry is the traditional homage to Cantona:

“Weeeeeeeeee’ll drink a drink a drink
To Eric the King, the King, the King,
He’s the leader of our football team,
He’s the greatest center forward,
That the world has ever seen!”

A brilliant atmosphere for those inclined to a bit of drink and song before the match.

Some lads from Northern Ireland were gob-smacked that they’d been singing next to two Americans and a Dominican. Their collective response was “And we thought we’d come a long way.” Cheers, mates.

After two hours of absorbing the ambiance and shooting some video memories, we leave to meet our larger group in the Fan Zone and check out the line-ups.

Our tickets located in the first few rows of the South Stand, on the top of the 18-yard box nearest the player’s tunnel, a total contrast to our Champions League seats. Here, we smell the grass, see the true pace of the game and join the Stretford End in song.

United 1 – Liverpool 4
What an utterly and completely shocking result. And it all started so well too.

Reina looks like he’s channeling Calamity James somewhere in the recesses of his brain whenever he visits Old Trafford. Last year, there was Wes Brown’s opener and several other dodgy decisions. This year, he gives an unnecessary penalty by taking down Park, right in front of us, by the way, and Ronnie converts the penalty for a brilliant start.

But, oh, how things can change.

You know the rest, with Vidic’s gaffe to Torres, Evra’s ill-timed tackle and subsequent penalty, Vidic’s red card smack-down, Aurelio’s curling free-kick, and the salt-in-the-wound Dosena lob for the final tally – the horror, the horror.

The club never seemed to recover from Vidic letting the ball play him and gifting Torres the opportunity for their first goal. This mistake unnerved the boys, boosted Pool, and made our backline fall back even further, creating even more space for Gerrard in the hole and lateral runs by Torres. We played right into their strength.

Arrrrggggghhhhhh.

What do you do with the rest of your day after this kind of result? Seriously, what do you do?!

There’s a certain aimlessness and loss of bearings when things go this far off course. Honestly, not in a million years would I have predicted this result. A close loss – yes, maybe – but not this, oh not this.

Moving Forward
All of the talk about being invincible and taking five cups, in retrospect, may have infiltrated the dressing room.

While just today, Fergie played down expectations and said he’s written off hopes of five trophies this year, stating in the New Statesman: "The thing about cup football is you need to be the best but you also need a lot of luck and I think it's asking too much for all the games to go your way.

"The one thing I will say is, this squad is the best I have ever had. Every game we play, I feel confident.

"At the moment, every attack fears our defence and every defence fears our midfield and attack. That gives you confidence but it is too tough a call.''

Beyond the luck-factor, nothing, I repeat, nothing could wake-up the club more than loosing handily to Pool at Old Trafford. Plus, how often does Vidic make any mistakes let alone two colossal blunders? How often will Carrick, Evra, Rio, O’Shea, and Ronaldo all field collective sub-par performances? Don’t bet on it anytime soon.

You only need to see the absolutely pained and disgusted look on Anderson’s face, as he headed up the tunnel after the match, to see first-hand his determination building for the next opponent.

Beware Fulham, Villa, and Sunderland.

Each loss this year has been followed by impressive runs thereafter. I expect nothing less now, and ultimately, Vidic’s two-game suspension may become a godsend, so he can rest up ahead of the packed fixture list in April and May.

We now look forward to the Champions League draw tomorrow (March 20) and taking out the collective frustrations against The Cottagers on the banks of the River Thames.

Easy Peasy

How disheartening it must be for title chasers to watch United purr around the pitch, stinging together passes, possession, and penetration at-will against a side playing 10 behind the ball. United’s attacking verve gets better by the day, so it’s becoming less a matter of if they’ll win, but rather, by how much. All the while, United successfully rotate in and out a host of players, and, oh yeah, there’s that little thing about 14 straight clean sheets. Eat your heart out Rafa.

Fergie maintains an almost psychic ability to judge form and know exactly when to insert a player in the line-up. At Pride Park, it was another masterful performance by Giggs, as Nani, Gibson, and Wellbeck took full advantage of their minutes as well. Today, it was Scholes’ turn to shine.

He was utterly brilliant, as he pinged together a whole collection of precise passes, from delicate chips just over defenders to 50-yard cross-field-diagonal passes to Ronaldo in-stride, not to mention his hammer-volley for his 97th Premier League goal. He makes the game look way, way too easy and was Man of the Match, hands down.

What an incredibly sad day it will be when Giggs and Scholes hangs up their boots. Both players haven’t received nearly enough headlines for their performances, unlike players such as Cantona or Keane.

That’s precisely what makes all of recent accolades for Giggsy so sweet.

After the West Ham match, La Gazzette Dello Sport made the Welshman one of 35 candidates for their weekly Europe’s Best XI, as they described the veteran as "class personified" and he wound up being voted in as a starting winger. Exactly a week later, Alan Hansen argued in his BBC column that Ryan Giggs ought to be footballer of the year, after extolling his performance overall this year and as a central striker in the FA Cup match at Derby.

Much like an aging actor who receives his first Oscar as much for his body of work than for the film in question, Giggs might just pip his own teammates for player of the year honors. And why not?! His performances have been magnificent, his versatility superb.

So, here’s to the future footballer of the year, Sir Ryan Giggs. Cheers!

At a Loss for Words

What else is there left to say?! Thirteen clean sheets and nine one-nil victories leaves me all tapped out, creativity-wise.

The Yogi Berra quote, “It’s déjà vu all over again.” Check: already used.

The Talking Heads refrain “Same as it ever was…” Check again.

Referencing a fictitious Groundhog Day 2 movie starring a confused, traveling United supporter. Check yet again.

Hummm… I haven’t made any reference to Punxsutawney Phil, but his skill-set involves weather forecasting, not footy predictions, plus the 6 more weeks of winter sound like a piece of cake to us, Minnesotans, as we take perverse pride functioning in our artic conditions. Skip that.

Not even the dinner play list from our wedding looping in the background sparks any original ideas here. Thanks, but no thanks, Aretha Franklin, Belle and Sebastian, Ray Charles, and REM. By the way, don’t go back to Rockville or say any little prayers for anyone.

All that’s left is to reflect directly on today’s decisive moment.

Lucky number 13 brings us the improbable: a right-footed match-winner from the Welsh Wizard. How many time have we seen Giggsy – God bless him – try the outside of the left boot when the right would work immeasurably better?

That’s the brilliance here. With any other player headed to a more central, better angle at goal, you feel that the Hammers may have closed-down the inevitable shot better, but the remaining defenders and Robert Green all seemed too focused on the cut-that-never-came, as the good-but-savable shot moved under and within the outstretched left arm of Green. Giggs has now scored in every single Premier League season since inception, yet another impressive record to for the team stat-bag.

After non-descript first half performances, both Scholes and Giggs combine to provide that magic, guile, and inspiration which won the match, as a certain Bob Marley’s song echos in the background, a truly impressive Upton Park Redemption Song.