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On The Corner

And Suddenly

Well who would have thunked that then, eh? The blinding first half hour of the Spurs game, when United emerged with their most memorable passage of play in I dunno how long, followed by an equally impressive opening salvo against Liverpool. Same team, same formation, same level of performance. It’s probably 15 years or more since we went to Anfield and controlled the game, but we actually did it. Turned up, dominated possession, created chances, took a couple and won the match. At one point during that 2nd half, when we were 2-0 up and the sun was shining, I’m sure I was actually, ever so briefly, enjoying myself. It soon evaporated when Sturridge scored and we faced a nervy last 20 minutes, but that’s not the point. For a few precious moments, I had the distinct feeling that United were back.

It’s taken until March for Van Gaal to stumble on his preferred line up and it’s one that even the sagiest of sages couldn’t have predicted back in August – Falcao and Di Maria on the bench with Young and Fellaini full of confidence and justifying their continued selection. Personally speaking, I gave up on the pair of them months ago and was somewhat aghast at the fact Van Gaal was still persevering. Fair’s fair though – they’re worth their place at present. Fellaini is still one of the most ungainly players I’ve ever seen – a professional nuisance who looks alright apart from when he has to use his feet. As we saw when he was at Everton, though – when he’s on form and firing he can be unplayable. The footballing aesthete in me still finds him grossly offensive, but there’s no denying that he’s brutally effective at what he does best.

To counter the presence of Fellaini and Phil Jones (another who seems to spend much of his time on the pitch playing a different sport to everyone else), Van Gaal has finally seen fit to unleash Mata and Herrera in tandem and thus bring about this unexpected outbreak of shekshy football. Juan Mata is ace. He’s just bloody lovely isn’t he? He writes a blog every week in which he signs off with hugs, he explores the Peak District on his days off, he tweets monochrome pictures of Manchester’s architecture and he probably likes kittens too. I mean, if you were, you definitely would, wouldn’t you?

Herrera too is the sort of lad who’s more likely to be found wandering round the Whitworth rather than sparring with Phil Bardsley after too many Smirnoff Ices. Like Mata, he looks a smashing player who’s too often been overlooked this season despite impressing when called upon. Since Van Gaal maintains that players are picked on merit, then surely the last two games have shown that the pair deserve to stay in the side for the remainder of the season? Give them a run, see if the team continues to thrive… and if Fellaini’s elbows are required as a counterweight to their lightweight presence, then so be it. I can live with that – at least we’ve got midfielders playing in midfield now.

The victory at Anfield was topped off, of course, with a wonderful cameo by Steven Gerrard who managed less time on the pitch than he did giving his leaden-faced, post-match apology… in which he apologised to pretty much everyone in existence barring the bloke he actually stamped on. The anguish in Martin Tyler’s voice as Martin Atkinson produced the red card was fantastic. Having spent the proceeding 2 minutes furiously spouting every last cliche he could muster, Tyler could barely conceal his disappointment as his planned narrative for the remainder of the match vanished within 40 seconds of Slippy’s grand entrance.

There’s no doubting that Gerrard has been a great servant for Liverpool over the years, but as a truly great player he falls somewhat short of the top tier. His career has coincided with both the era of the overhyped Premier League superstar and Liverpool’s decline from the game’s elite, so consequently he’s been lionised and feted by a generation of fans and ex-players desperate to see a return to their glory years. The Gerrard myth was finally exposed for all to see during last summer’s World Cup, when Hodgson made the glaring error of going with public opinion and making the bloke his captain and thus undroppable.

Contrary to Sky Sports’ legend, Gerrard is anything but a selfless leader of men who continues to inspire everyone around him just by frowning and looking serious. It’s a myth. Instead, I’d suggest that Steven Gerrard plays mainly for himself, and has done for years. He’s got a big heart, yes… but that’s part of the problem – all too often he’s relied on that rather than demonstrate a functioning football brain. The reality is that Gerrard is tactically ill-disciplined and fatally flawed as a genuine top-level player. Talented undoubtedly, but as far as Liverpool and England were concerned, too often a liability when the stakes were high and a cool head was required.

Talking of frowning and looking serious, Ryan Giggs has been doing an awful lot of that this last few months. Now I’m no expert on body language, but judging by Giggsy’s current demeanour, life as a key member of Louis Van Gaal’s backroom staff looks to be about as much fun as attending a child’s funeral. You dutifully sit there listening to the big feller muttering to himself, you watch as he makes notes on his big pad, you offer the odd opinion (which he probably ignores) and then when the clowns on the pitch somehow contrive to score a goal, you get rewarded with a slap across the chops for your troubles.

Now I’m not trying to shit-stir and this is based on nothing more than me speculating, but one is left wondering how long this current set-up is going to last. Despite Ryan never being the most expressive of personalities off the pitch (which I can personally attest to having been resoundingly blanked after letting on to him in the bogs at Cheerleaders in the mid-90s… not that I’m still bitter or anything), he just looks utterly fed up at the moment. Maybe it’s the comedown after playing for 20 years, maybe he was short of a better offer after not getting the manager gig himself, maybe it’s nothing of the sort… but something doesn’t look right.

Whatever Giggs is thinking right now, his current job is surely still preferable to debating bed linen and shower fittings with Phillip Neville. Yes, the imaginatively named ‘Hotel Football‘ is now open for business and regardless of the fact you or I are unlikely to ever pay it a visit, it’s clearly going to make a shitload of money for the already minted class of ’92 proprietors. The incredible thing about this venture is that it actually exists. I mean, how on earth did they manage to get away with it? United employ departments full of staff tasked with exploiting the commercial potential of everything in the world yet they somehow miss the fact that a strip of land is ripe for development less than a minutes walk away. It’s absolutely absurd.

Every day as Arnold and Woodward drive to and from work, there it is just standing there…. reminding them, taunting them… it must be eating them up seeing all that money being poured into someone else’s pockets right on their doorstep. Next time Joel and Avi turn up you can bet they’ll be ushered in via Stretford Bridge so they don’t see it. Oh to be a fly on the wall at the next scheduled board meeting, “I don’t care about the fact you two idiots have found an official toothpaste partner in Zimbabwe, what the holy fuck is that thing doing over there?!”

www.rednews.co.uk

Check Your Head

1 Reply

In this age of faux sentimentality and competitive grieving, the manner in which the club and United fans remember the Munich Air Disaster each year remains a source of some pride. There tends to be nothing over-elaborate or contrived about how the anniversary is marked. We don’t seek the attention of outsiders and we’ve never flaunted the tragedy to garner public sympathy. For the most part, everything is kept in-house, low-key and respectful – just as it should be.

Unfortunately, this message of ‘how we do things’ doesn’t seem to have reached a number of ‘reds’ that inhabit social media. February 6th this year saw Twitter rammed-full of the self-satisfied, ‘look at me’ witterings of people in competition to be the biggest and bestest, grief-stricken mourner. It was pathetic, with a few even attempting to get in early by posting their heartfelt missives the night before – ‘Munich Eve’, I suppose, in their world.

The biggest clown of the lot was one lad, writing for a sizeable United news blog, who decided to take offence at the fact Danny Murphy appeared on Talksport on February 5th and relayed an anecdote relating to aircraft turbulence. Sadly, I’m not making this up. This is what Murphy said…

“I’ll never forget going through a storm in a plane on a pre-season tour, Switzerland to Germany and it was the worst turbulence I’ve ever had and we were in little propellered plane, only the team. We were flying and it was really bad turbulence, I was like getting a bit scared and Didi Hamann was terrified. Michael Owen turned round and said ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to die in a plane crash’. I thought, you know what, he was joking, but I’m thinking, he’s right you know, Michael Owen is not going to die in a plane crash.”

So Murphy made no mention of Munich whatsoever, wasn’t mocking the crash and simply told a story which highlighted the fact that as a youngster, Michael Owen was a cocky little bleeder. It’s a good story too, yet apparently it shouldn’t have been told because it was the day before the anniversary of Munich – a fact which apparently made this United blogger’s “blood boil”. The blog’s editor even contacted Talksport demanding some kind of explanation or apology, an utterly brainless request that I sincerely hope was ignored. Seriously now, what do these people hope to achieve? Are we so sensitive now that the words ‘plane crash’ can’t be uttered in February? Should we also ban aircraft travel during that month in case there’s ever a repeat?

The Munich anniversary has always been a sombre and muted affair, not a cue for people to start losing the plot and crowbarring themselves into the spotlight in an attempt to drum up some controversy. There was no story here, just a shameless attempt by a United fan hoping to increase blog traffic and cause embarrassment to an ex-Liverpool player. Just because a significant number of their fans seem to draw pleasure from trawling the media, seeking out tenuous insults and stirring up trouble for the supposed perpetrators, it doesn’t justify United fans adopting a similar mentality.

Next year, it would be nice if certain people could mark the anniversary as we have always tried to in the past – quietly, calmly and above all, respectfully. It doesn’t require a fuss and it certainly doesn’t need plastering all over social media to advertise how caring we are. If you choose to visit Manchesterplatz in Trudering or Duncan Edwards’ resting place in Dudley, then fantastic, do it – just don’t feel obliged to show everyone the pictures on Facebook. Then again, we’re talking about people here who would see nothing untoward with tweeting live updates from a family funeral. “Coffin gone in. Missin’ u already, Mum xx”

It’s not only a number of United fans who’ve suffered a #headsgone moment this month, as Louis Van Gaal demonstrated during his press conference a couple of days after the West Ham game. Quite why the manager of Manchester United felt the need to respond to Sam Allardyce of all people, questioning his tactics, is something that can only be answered by Louis himself. This, of course, was the same Sam Allardyce whose entire managerial career has seen him prosper by employing the likes of Kevin Davis and Andy Carroll as human battering rams. Louis would have been better off ignoring him completely rather than trying to disprove his accusations with a cringeworthy dossier of Benitez-style ‘fachts’.

Talking of Kevin Davis, I note he gave a textbook demonstration of his limited skill set during the game up at Preston recently. Quite what this journeyman clogger has ever done to merit his national treasure status is really quite baffling. At Deepdale he was showing off his full repertoire of snide, culminating in a shin-high, late challenge which deserved a straight red yet was conveniently ignored by the referee, Phil Dowd. Thankfully, Preston had the sense to substitute him soon afterwards before he made an even bigger fool of himself. Here’s hoping that’s the last time our paths will ever cross, and that sometime in the near future Davis will summon up the good grace to retire at last, the try-hard prick.

The Preston game encapsulated exactly where United are at right now. It’s painful to watch for the most part, with many players struggling with tactics and formations they still seem entirely uncomfortable with. Attempts at possession football result in them smashing the ball against each other’s shins and most confusingly of all (and somewhat disturbingly), we actually look a better team with Young and Fellaini on the pitch. Falcao, meanwhile, looks to be in a terminal slump. Despite starting a run of games and now being able to last a full 90 minutes, he looks a shadow of the player that was tearing up La Liga 2-3 years ago. It’s all gone a bit Shevchenko at Chelsea for him, sadly.

Van Gaal’s claim that he’s happy with the team’s progress has a hollow ring to it at present, especially now a top four place is under serious threat from a resurgent Liverpool and an in-form Arsenal. Considering the easy run of fixtures we’ve had since Christmas, it should really have been all but wrapped up by now – but instead we’re facing a tough run of games with key players struggling for form in a system that seems to change by the week. Judging by the comments coming from the away end at Preston during that diabolical 1st half, Van Gaal still has a lot of convincing to do. He may well have the players onside, but can he rely on the support of the United board if he doesn’t finish top four?