Fear Factor

Would United look refreshed or would the Reds succumb to a banana-skin match?

It's an unlikely slip-up would be the initial thought, with the United defense looking water-tight and Sunderland missing Bramble, Cattermole, Turner, and Welbeck, to name a few.

But, some concerns are justified, given the long layoff for Fergie's men.

Early on, you could tell United were up for the match, as the Reds pressed forward.

In the fifth minute, Anderson sent Giggs through on a Route One counter, with the Welshman looking decades younger while charging forward. A subsequent pass to Rooney on the right, who hit a beautiful far-post cross for a Berbatov back door header: one-nil to the good.

Easy enough. Might be gifts aplenty this afternoon.

Not long after the goal, though, there were two shots off the woodwork – one post, one crossbar – and one-sided possession through much of the first half. The outcome already appeared certain, as United maintained complete control.

But, as half-time arrived, the scoreline remained one-nil, with Steve Bruce the happier of the two managers, relieved to have not conceded any more goals. Wasteful, and at times, unlucky finishing for the Reds.

And, as the second half began, Sunderland looked more organized and poised enough to move forward, causing some unease to begin to descend upon Old Trafford. All that was required was one slip-up for a smash-and-grab job for Sunderland.

Predictably, United regained whatever modicum of control lost over the match, but still no goals were found. Would it be “just one of those days” after all?!

Not today.

In the 57th minute, Berbatov's second came from the most innocuous of attempts stationed on the right-side, at the top of the box. Wayne Rooney's overlapping run around the outside brought Anton Ferdinand tighter to Berba's mark, Phil Bardsley, just as the Bulgarian tried bending the ball with the outside of his right boot toward the far-post, but instead the shot ricocheted off Ferdinand's hip past the wrong-footed Craig Gordon to the near post.

Finally, a break. It's game, set and match United.

The rest of the afternoon allowed both sides to rest key players ahead of midweek fixtures, with any atmosphere quickly escaping Old Trafford, as occasional songs from either the Stretford End or the away end punctuated silent spells where you could clearly hear players yelling instructions to each other on the pitch.

This allowed other questions to emerge in Red Devil minds, such as “Would Berba net another hat-trick?” or “Would Wazza break his duck from open play?” Such was the comfort level.

Neither would come today, as more references to Rooney's nine month goal scoring drought continues in the football media. Tedious commentary, as far as I'm concerned.

This goalless spell includes multiple injuries and two months off after the World Cup. Guess how many EPL games Rooney's played this campaign after today? Six of seventeen, I believe. That's hardly worth a cumulative time tally in my book.

Yes, Wazza is pressing at the moment, as he positions himself predictably, at times, to play the ball to his favored right foot, has an overly-anxious first touch, or shoots straight at the keeper. Today, Wayne was quite unlucky not to see his superb chip drift just away from the far post early in the first half. His time will come, inevitably.

You got the feeling that if the Number Ten broke his duck, the flood gates would surely open up, as it would be a huge relief to the team as well as the individual player.

But, who needs Wazza's goals, when Berba's scored 13 before the New Year?

Actually, the answer's right there in front of us, if we simply look back in time.

Rooney's goals come in bunches and suggest a long-term trend in form, thereby one seems to inspire better play from the rest of the lads.

On the other hand, Berbatov's goals can also arrive in bunches, but they can also disappear as quickly as they come. There's a fleeting quality here, one which doesn't seem as contagious to those around the Number Nine. At least up until now.

Now picture this: both Berbatov and Rooney in-form simultaneously, with one goal from either talisman inspiring not only confidence in each other but the rest of the team as well. A daunting proposition for opponents, especially at Old Trafford. You concede and you're done, goes the psychological pressure.

I know the rest of the league has improved markedly.

I know United still can show very uneven finishing form.

I know any run by the Red Devils relies heavily on the health of the Rio-Vidic-van der Sar partnership at the back.

But, when I see United on top of the league, with games in-hand, and Rooney's form and partnership with Berbatov improving markedly, opposition fear akin to a 90's edition of United isn't entirely beyond reach here, as we've never witnessed both Rooney and Berbatov red-hot simultaneously, which appears more likely by the match.

Seventeen unbeaten, without hitting top gear, without Rio and Wazza for large stretches, astonishes most football observers.

United's rested and well-poised for a trademark, second-half run at the title, one that re-ignites old fear in the opposition.

Let's raise our glass to that glorious fear factor. May our opponents feel their beaten the moment they go down one-nil. Cheers.

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Back at you after the Birmingham match.

Tight as a Drum

Whenever Arsene Wenger visits Old Trafford, you feel as though you could put a piece of coal you-know-where and end up with a diamond by half time, such is the Frenchman's anxiety and angst.

Even Fergies pre-match comments about certain United supporters refraining from taunting The Professor with crude jibes did nothing to refrain the crowd or Wenger himself from his prickly reactions to losing yet again to United.

Let me see... today it was... it waaaass... the pitches fault... yeah, that's it.

It had absolutely nothing to do with Anderson buzzing around the midfield, looking like he owns everyone, including Fabregas.

It had absolutely nothing to do with an immaculately-positioned back-line, with Evra and Rafael bombing forward when the opportunity presented itself.

It had nothing to do with Park, Wazza, and Nani interchanging and linking play with runs from the midfield, with Nani terrorizing the Gunners yet again.

Give me a break, please.

As much as I personally dislike the pedophile references to Mr. Wenger, the Nutty Professor does nothing in-and-around Old Trafford but make a target of himself.

For all of Arsenal's technical wizardry and attempts to be Barcelona-of-the-North, they played more cautious football than West Brom did on this very same ground. That, my friend has nothing to do with the pitch.

Largely, the Gunners created very little today and were simply second best. The United back four owned this match, with vintage performances from Rio and Vidic – two shut-up-shop artisans at their very best.

And there you have it: Arsenal stretched tight, United sealed tight. One-nil to the good, when a more comfortable scoreline seemed justified for the Red Devils.

Now United move two-points clear at top of the table, with a game in-hand as well, before heading to Stamford Bridge to meet Chelsea on the weekend. Can't wait until Sunday.

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Back at you after the Chelsea match.

Fair Play?

Without a Blackpool v United game today, I'm without the usual grist to write my weekly BeDeviled blog post. It's utterly unacceptable that Blackpool doesn't have under-soil heating, even if they're a “small” budget team. They should have used £300K of that £30M promotion money to work on the ground for christ’s sake. United could pay a price for this added fixture towards the end of the season, which is totally unfair. But, that's all there is to say here.

Well, now what?

With my free time, I wanted to add my thoughts to the discussion about the World Cup bids landing in Russia and Qatar in 2018 and 2022 respectively.

First, let me say I was gutted not to be attending the 2018 World Cup in England and 2022 in the US. And my immediate reaction to the selection was that the process was entirely corrupt – friggin' back-handed, corrupt and fois-gras-eating FIFA. I got texts from fellow American United supporters immediately expressing the same feelings: oil money won two World Cups.

However, once I calmed down, read some analysis from various sources, and watched people's reactions, my reason returned.

Now nobody knows exactly if there was total and rampant corruption. Could have been, but let's not assume that and look a bit closer at the reactions and possible views from the non-English-and-US camps.

Overall, the US delegation clearly expressed their disappointment and showed grace in congratulating the winners and expressing confidence in their ability to host the World Cup.

Conversely, you'll find nothing but pissing and moaning from the English, which infuriates me to no end, as someone that would love to attend a World Cup in England during my lifetime.

The English have done nothing BUT prove that they don't deserve the World Cup Finals anytime in the next quarter century. This comes from someone that people consider an Anglophile due to my penchant for British culture, largely developed by friendships with Brit Ex-pats, love of the EPL, and passion for United.

Plu-eeeze, dear Inger-landers, get a grip, for the love of God – I implore you. May the power of Christ compel you. May the power of Christ compel you.

First, you find everyone from Golden Balls to Andy Anson expressing that the English had “the best bid”, as Anson expressed to and was reported by the BBC:

"I still find it hard to understand what happened," he told a media conference in Zurich on Friday morning.

"When you have the best technical bid, fantastic inspection visits, the best economic report, and, from what people told us, the best presentation, it's quite hard to stomach that all that seemed to count for absolutely nothing.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush - individual members promised to vote for us and didn't clearly.
They are saying to us that our media killed us but I don't believe that for one minute, but that's what we are being told.”

"Russia did a lot of last-minute lobbying and votes appeared to switch at the last minute - we know some switched in the early hours of the morning."

First, how naïve can you be?!

This is politics, my friend. What people say and do are entirely different things. I absolutely know this and my job doesn't involve leading a country's bid for anything. These comments are bush league. And when Sepp Blatter praised the bid days before the announcement, you knew that was the kiss of death akin to a football team's board expressing every confidence in an under-fire manager.

Second, “best bid” by what criteria?

I've read the media accounts of leaked FIFA evaluations about the bids. I think England probably had the lowest-risk and greatest immediate-term financial gain. True enough. Safest, most reliably profitable bid. Well done.

But, that's not the ONLY criteria.

FIFA didn't buy the vision, which is sooo overlooked in most of the accounts I read from the UK. All I've read is anger, angst, and aggression.

As an American, I've been subject to countless conversations with English football fans for decades about being proud forebears of the beautiful game.

Fair enough. Something to be proud of without question. And, typically, the English, who don't know me, assume I know nothing of this fact because I'm an American. Wrong, you arrogant twit, I often think as I travel through Europe.

But it doesn't stop there. So, what's the English response to losing the bid?

Yep, we need FIFA reform.

You just can't make this up. You don't get your way, so let's revise the process. Grow up, England. You're acting like a pre-teen complaining to your parents that your younger siblings get preferential treatment. “It's not fair because...” hand-wringing isn't very becoming, m’boy.

Thus, as someone that desperately wants England to land a World Cup Finals, here are three entirely viable answers to the big question “Why not England?!”

First, the Olympics are coming to London in 2012. I know this isn't football, but in a grander sense of fairness, the English bid had this fact going against it.

Second, if you openly distain FIFA, don't be surprised if there's a backlash. Looking down your nose at the rest of the world's football cost you, mate. Or, in football-song-speak, “You're going down, you're going down, you're going down” cried football's governing body in unison.

And most important, the absolute arrogance and entitlement mentality was only accentuated by having Prince William and David Beckham lead the bid process under the auspices of “Bring HOME the World Cup 2018.”

Yes, you have the fans and facilities. Yes, it would make money. Yes, you're the “home” of the beautiful game.

But, would it grow the game's popularity?

How many Western European countries have already hosted the World Cup Finals?

The answers here are obvious, even to an English bid supporter.

Central to Russia's bid was clearly showing FIFA that history would be made by hosting the World Cup for the first time in an Eastern European country, one where the game’s popularity has room for growth – no matter how infuriating it is to see Roman Arkadyevich Abramovic celebrate winning the bid – grrrr, Chelski – you can at least gather the possibility that this bid could have been awarded without corruption. This is a contrasting vision to be fair.

Finally, as an American, I firmly believe we, arguably, have much more to complain about than the English.

Qatar?! Are you kidding me? When I first heard the news, I lost it.

Again, with some perspective, I can see the appeal of the Qatar bid's vision.

It's the first World Cup Finals in a Middle Eastern country. It'll be the most compact World Cup Finals in history, thereby allowing the world's cultures to mix at the finals as never before. It's eleven years away, thereby providing enough time to build the necessary infrastructure and stadiums. And, it promised charity – dismantling stadiums and rebuilding them in developing countries.

Based on these merits and the understanding they have the cash to deliver the goods, I can see the appeal. Yes, there's risk here, and the Qatar bid provided daring answers. Full credit to them. Again, FIFA wanted to roll the die and make history here.

Game, set, match: Qatar.

Thankfully, as an American, our bid team showed honest disappointment and enough class to congratulate the winner as well as express confidence in Qatar's ability to pull off their vision.

No calls for FIFA reform. No excessive angst. Who do you think will get a World Cup Finals next: US or England?!

England's childish behavior will be remembered for a long time by delegates. Football isn't coming home anytime soon, much to my chagrin.

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Back at you possibly after the Arsenal clash. Cheers.

Hammered

Sorry, I just couldn't resist with the title. What a strange day.

Watching United games from the dead-center of North America, I'm accustomed to the cold and snow, but not watching it flying around Upton Park in November. Newcastle or Sunderland, maybe, but not London. Snow falling outside. Snow falling on TV.

Watching United games on the DVR, hours after the result's complete with a personal media blackout in effect, always adds to the strange alchemy here, especially if things turn sour.

Speaking of turning sour: enter from stage-left one Jonathan Spector. Fellow Yank. Former United player.

Now central midfielder and goal-scoring machine?!

After scoring one goal at Derby – a dubious one at that – thus far in his career, Mr. Spector was a close off-sides call away from a hat-trick by halftime. Which then naturally leads the Upton Park faithful fans to start chants of “going down, going down, going down” aimed at Fergie's men.

Are you kidding me?!

Oh East-ender, karma's a bitch, mate. The bubbles might flow tonight, but you've got the real dogfight on your hands.

Next up Chicharito and Fabio get clattered and clobbered, while some good chances fall to Bebe, whose touch lets him down due to his “rough edges” and we break for half down 2-0.

Adding to the overall surrealness of this viewing, I'm watching it off Fox Soccer PLUS, which has just one announcer for the match and absolutely no commentary or analysis at half. Grrrrrr.

Instead what do we get? Countless adverts for Ligue 1, Premier League, and the League-formerly-known-as-the-Coca-Cola Championship. Etcetera, etcetera.

After the commercial montage is complete, next up is a short, promo-like-documentary-highlight-reel-job about the Gerry Francis era at QPR. Nothing against Gerry Francis, but WTF?

Simply add in a predatory lending commercial promising to take care of all your debt needs without a background check. Now your evening is complete. (BTW, other typical commercials on this network could involve products like male enhancement pills, Hair Club for [bald] Men, and acne cream. Just the target demographic you always wanted to be, right?)

Such is life watching footy a continent away from the action in a culture that largely doesn't appreciate the beautiful game. AT LEAST I could get the game. That's still how I view it.

Or, at least that's how I saw it prior to watching the second half, which started brightly, with Macheda on for Bebe and some good early pressure coming off of Fabio's overlapping runs down the right flank. Maybe there's a comeback in the offering.

Think again.

Against the run of play, United switch off at the back and Carleton Cole heads the Hammers on top 3-0 – bad, bad Jonny Evans.

Astonishing.

Now comes the part I'm not too proud to admit: I fast-forward the DVR to watch to see if the scoreline changes... It does, but in the wrong direction.

Now it's 4-0. Game. Set. Match.

We all knew the streak would end sometime, with the Carling Cup being a fairly ideal place for a blip in the road. Thankfully, this match is already history.

As Minnesotans, we take perverse pleasure in thriving during our long, icy winters, which makes it hilarious to listen to the Brits complain about minimal snow fall – oh, THE cold. On some level, it also makes it even harder to watch United get hammered and taunted in the snow.

As a famous former Beatle once said, “Strange days indeed, strange days indeed.”

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Back at you after the Blackpool match. Cheers.

Hungry For More

I'll leave all the “Five Star” performance titles to others in the blogosphere and media. Today was all about appetite.

Midway through the second half, speculation began about if history were in the making with a 6-0 lead and 27 minutes remaining. Would United's 9-0 victory over Ipswich Town be beaten? How many would Berbatov score?

Ultimately, history held in a 7-1 victory, taking United's unbeaten run to ten over Blackburn, as Berbatov joins Cole, Defoe, and Shearer as the fourth player to score five goals in a Premier League match. Bestie's six goal tally against Northampton would remain safe as well today, but just barely, as Berba's screaming header was tipped over by Robinson with something like five minutes remaining.

The adjectives from today's performance run from clinical to sublime, ruthless to superb, as I can't think of a single United player who didn't play well, with the only blip being Jonny Evans getting pushed too easily aside by Samba to nod home Rovers' only goal.

Going a plus-six in one match certainly does wonders for United's goal-differential, as we're now tied with Chelsea at plus-nineteen ahead of their match against Newcastle tomorrow.

Upon reflection, three things really stood out for me from this match.

First, United, including Rooney, looked remarkably famished immediately from the first whistle, which is wonderful to see, given the up-and-down performances through the season's first third. Everyone looked dangerous going forward, as the movement off the ball and first-touch passing were delightful to watch. United cut Rovers apart for a full 90 minutes. The front pair, Park, Nani, Anderson, Evra and Rafael deserve full praise for their almost telepathic understanding of each other at times – truly United at its most lethal attack all season. It should be noted that Rooney made nice strides from the midweek match against Rangers, as his movement, passing, and first-touch demonstrate he's enjoying and regaining control over his football again.

Second, while some may get caught up in United's performance, it absolutely must be acknowledged that Blackburn were atrocious, which played a huge part in today's proceedings. Giving up a goal 72 seconds into the match threw Big Sam's game plan right out the window. No nil-nil draw today. And not much later, Chimbonda's horrendous back-pass – or early Christmas present – for Berbatov's second clearly gutted Rovers. Down 3-0 inside 30 minutes against a free-flowing United side caused Rovers to labor the rest of the afternoon. Hard to play well against a committed opponent knowing the result is pre-determined no matter the effort.

Foremost and finally, all credit in the world to the Man of the Match, one Dimitar Berbatov, on his exquisite five goal tally. Certainly Fergie's pre-match comments about making too many changes in the side, which led to a dip in Berba's form, seemed incredibly apt after the match.

Berbatov and Rooney looked as though they've played together uninterrupted all season long, with both players unselfishly looking for the extra pass to each other much of the afternoon. The chemistry was down-right amazing for anyone who's seen enough of United to know the frustrations these two can have getting on the same page. Berba looked rejuvenated playing along side a fit and focused Rooney.

Given the deservedly harsh criticism of the past few weeks, the Bulgarian's finishing abilities shined with the attack coming from all angles. Today's match rewarded Berba's poaching instincts with abundance. Yet, there was a strange, ironic twist with the fifth goal coming only after Berba's initial cross to Rooney got blocked straight back to the Number 9 to slot-home a tight angle, side-foot effort into the open goal. Others couldn't buy Rooney a goal from open play, even today, which in some way seemed a kind of karmic justice for the Number 10 who so openly flirted with aspirations elsewhere.

While the crowd craved for Rooney to get a goal from open play, in retrospect, not getting one could pay dividends in the near future. You can only expect Wazza's remarkable improvement in form to continue from game to game, leaving the lad and United hungry for more.
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Back at you after the West Ham match. Cheers.

Just Enough

Rooo-ney! Rooo-ney! Rooo-ney!

Can you just feel the love?

Admittedly, Wazza was merely a side-story in the outcome of this match, as the value of Scholes and Chicharito to United were evident yet again today.

Interestingly the Stretford End chose to sing Scholes' praise when both players entered the game simultaneously, while Rooney's reception was positive, overall, with a few boos mixed in with the ubiquitious “Rooo-ney!” repeated around the ground.

The irony for Wigan, who historically get battered at Old Trafford, is they lost 2-0 while playing a large stretch of the match down to nine men and defended brilliantly. Previous scorelines of 4-0 typify such encounters. Not today though.

United did just enough, which provides some measure of satisfaction, given the numerous draws this year and that the Red Devils' three points came without firing on all cylinders, as the five-man midfield lacked guile and synchronization with the lone striker, Macheda, as well as with each other for the first 56 minutes of the match.

All too often this campaign we've seen United struggle to gain fluency and the sharp edge required by champions around goal. Fergie's men regain pole position, with Arsenal and Chelsea losing, without looking anywhere near the finished product. Amazing.

We all know there's far too much quality in this side to believe the dry patches around goal will continue or get worse, without a major injury crisis.

We've also witnessed flashes of brilliance from Berba, Chicharito, Nani, and Park, along with minutes for other young players. Vidic and Rio appear very soild again, while Scholes continues to prove his master class this campaign, as Sir Alex adroitly picks and chooses his minutes.

Yet, there are no obvious replacements for Scholes, who demonstrated in less that five minutes how his range of passing opens up play, especially by getting wide players involved with his long, raking passes after coming on as a substitute. United's attacking character changed immediately.

World-class midfield graft is incredibly difficult to develop, expensive to purchase and possibly troublesome to assimilate for anyone that remembers the on-again, off-again Veron.

This remains a huge concern for United.

And, while we've witnessed flashes of brilliance from Nani, it's troubling to watch a player who maybe doesn't have the physical strength of Ronaldo but possesses every bit of skill and trickery as the former number seven, hit crosses to nowhere repeatedly.

Despite everything though – the late draws, inconsistency, and poor finishing – United draw level with Chelsea for top spot after game number fourteen. Amazing.

Just enough won't win you a title, but it'll do just fine today, especially after a first third of the season marked by numerous injuries.

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Back at you after the Blackburn match. Cheers.

Not Good Enough

Well, what do you say after today?

I was fully prepared to acknowledge Villa's supremecy and bemoan United's tired and lethargic performance today. Tight possession. No Red Devil shots on target in the first half. Berba and Nani frustratingly off. No cutting edge with a derby hangover. Sad to say we need the White Pele.

Or, do we?

I'll return to Macheda's and Obertan's strong performance in a minute, but first, two critical questions beg asking.

How is United contained by a weakened Villa side with two kids in the center of midfield?

How do Villa display more width and dynamism than United for 79 minutes?

The commentators were right with their repetitive quips that John Carew probably would have Villa ahead due to the quality and quantity of crossing through the first half.

In the second, Aston Villa must have felt hard-done, especially after hitting the woodwork twice inside of two minutes. Then, it all went pear-shaped for Sir Alex's men, as they fell prey to Villa's pacey counter-attack, not once but several times.

First, Gabriel Agbonlahor and Ashley Young combined nicely to carve apart the United defense, leaving Wes Brown to clattered Ashley Young into Rio for a sandwich-penalty in the 72nd minute. One-nil Villa in front of the Holte End – a much overdue lead.

Second, as the Red Devils pressed forward without Berbatov and Hernandez, getting used to Macheda and Obertan upfront, the two central midfielders get caught flat moving too far forward and it's another beautifully executed counter-attack. It's 2-0 in the 76th minute.

Would the cliché hold true, that two-nil is the most dangerous lead in football? How would Villa's kids respond to the inevitable pressure to come?

A few minutes after the second goal, United's attack gained an edge, with Macheda leading the line, Obertan in the hole, and midfielders alternating runs at goal from various angles.

A Macheda laser-job from the top of the box makes it 2-1 in the 81st minute. Game on, as United now have momentum against a young-and-exhausted side.

Pressure begets more pressure, eventually leading to a brilliant cross by Nani that finds a diving Captain Vidic on the far post and it's 2-2 right in front of the away supporters, who now feel obliged to taunt Villa supporters for the manner which they lost the lead.

Now it's only a question of will United win or will Villa hold?

Ultimately Villa deserved a point from this match. They played well no matter what Sir Alex thought of their tackling, as the United midfield never adjusted to the refereeing being offered on the day.

What's so troubling is the wild swing in United's ability to generate an attacking edge. Certain games during the season become difficult for one reason or another, whether it's an injury crisis or the opposition plays out of their minds.

Today was not one of them.

Sure, Villa played well, but United showed how easily the inexperienced side would crumble at the feet of a quality attack. Literally, you felt that one goal would douse the Villan's confidence and composure.

Too bad that chance came to Berbatov in the 16th minute, as Chicharito played the striker in alone on goal where, instead of a first-time shot with his right boot from ten yards, he dragged the ball to the left which allowed Friedel time to close the angle as he shot wide from five yards out. A sure sign of a striker lacking confidence.

This was THE moment to stick the knife in an immature side. This was THE moment United paid huge sums of money for clinical finishing. This was THE critical chance missed.

You simply must wonder what the other United players think of Nani's and Berba's road-to-nowhere dribbling and inconsistent form.

This frustrating habit kills the attacking verve of the side, as you never know what each will do with the ball. Once players start thinking too much during their attacking play, thoughts like “Why didn't you pass it to me?!” after making a well-timed run, or worse, hesitency creeps in with a “Should I or shouldn't I make that run?!” It all breaks down as we observed today.

Sure, United must be tired given the midweek derby, injuries and the flu-bug that's gone round. Sure, Villa played well.

But any team with real title aspirations would have killed off this undermanned Villa side inside of 30 minutes with a goal. One quality strike and the house of cards would have fallen. A splendid opportunity missed.

Through the first third of the season, the verdict is clear: United are not good enough to win the title, as evidenced by this smash-and-grab point for the seventh draw from first thriteen games. The lack of clinical, well-timed finishing to put away the opposition haunts United. Oh, what we'd give for Cantona's edge right now.

Thank God for Kiko's and Obertan's inspired play today, as without it, United were sunk. They've certainly earned more minutes at the expense of Park or Nani and Berbatov during our home match versus Wigan next weekend.

Hmmm... "Oooh-aaahh Maa-che-daaa (Maˈkɛːda)" has certain ring to it, don't ya think?!

Back at you next weekend. Cheers.