Tag Archives: doom

Roll With The Punches

kate upton

Last month I had a proper whinge about our abysmal home form, a moan about the relevance of the FA Cup and ended with a flippant call for Moyes to do something to sort things out. To be fair to the manager, my gripes have certainly been addressed over the last few weeks. We’re now losing away games as well (evidence that we’ve discovered some long overdue consistency of performance) and we’ve been knocked out of both domestic cups. This time out I’ll limit my requests to next week’s lottery numbers and a night with Kate Upton if you’re reading, Dave?

I’m writing this in the aftermath of the Stoke game: another mess of a performance and our 8th league defeat of the season – this one with the added bonus of losing two more centre backs to injury. Despite results getting steadily worse as the season progresses, this car crash of a campaign remains quite captivating… in the same way one feels compelled to gawp at someone with an unfortunate facial disfigurement. It’s far too early to start trumpeting ‘things can only get better’, because the very distinct possibility exists they could get a whole lot worse over the next few months.

The one upside of regular defeats is that they stop stinging after a while. For the last 20 years, a narrow defeat in a game we expected 3 points had the ability to wreck an entire weekend. Not anymore. The blows have become so frequent of late that I’m barely flinching now. City are scoring a million goals per game and look unstoppable whereas we’ve gone shit. To deal with it, I’ve focused on not dealing with it – and I’ve discovered that being utterly impassive is helping immensely. It’s a bit mard, I know and I’ll have to face up to things eventually but in the meantime, don’t judge me. This is just how things are… the new reality. We’re surveying the wreckage of the post-Fergie apocalypse.

Even during these dark times, however – there are days that come along which give you a spring in your step, a fresh sense of optimism and some renewed hope that things might be heading in the right direction. No, not the Juan Mata signing – we’ll get to that in a bit. What I mean is that whatever David Moyes does or doesn’t achieve in future, he’ll always have my eternal gratitude for finally ridding us of that appalling, fat waster Anderson.

fatpig

Quite how this clown managed to complete 6 and a half seasons at OT will be difficult to explain to future generations. He was constantly out-of-shape, his re-fuelling habits a source of mirth even amongst his own team mates and when he did manage to get himself on the pitch, his performances were frequently dreadful. He didn’t tackle, he lacked the energy and discipline to play box-to-box and his passing was woeful… I’m not even going to comment on his shooting technique. Actually, I will – it was completely shit.

The only time Anderson ever looked like he had a genuine (no pun intended) appetite for any on-pitch physical exertion was during end-of-season trophy presentations when he’d rouse himself from his perpetual stupor and head straight for the cameras, doing that samba dance routine that’s mandatory for all South American ex-pat footballers. That’s the sum total of what we’re going to miss from Anderson – his ability to dance and balloon about the gaff whilst sticking his tongue out. I just hope to Christ he manages to convince Fiorentina that his loan move should be made permanent in the summer so we’re rid of him for good, the fucking fraud.

The departures didn’t stop there. Fabio left for Cardiff, which seems a hell of a comedown for a still young, international footballer who featured in a Champions League final less than 3 years ago. Unfortunately he just never seemed to kick on and find a settled position at United – looking identical, playing in the same position and sharing the same impetuous streak as his brother all counted against him in the end. Wilfred Zaha also headed to South Wales and following his debut, has already racked up the same amount of assists that Antonio Valencia has managed all season. The way our season is unravelling, don’t be surprised if he continues this progress and ends up picking up the PFA Young Player award.

Amazingly, it turns out that Federico Macheda is still on United’s payroll and has now been loaned out for something like the 17th time in his career – this time to Birmingham City. Quite why he was ever given a long term deal remains a mystery – as it was clear within weeks of his career high debut that he was incredibly limited and unlikely to make the grade at the top level. Still, he started well at his new club too, scoring a last minute equaliser in a 3-3 draw – which Wikipedia informs me is his 10th goal in 6 seasons. Prolific or what? If he keeps this up, expect United to bring him back in the summer and reward him with a new 5 year contract.

mata

Moyes signalled the start of the transfer window by stating that although he didn’t expect any significant arrivals, “the number of big players who want to join Manchester United is incredible.” Really? Whether this meant ‘big’ as in ‘good’ or ‘big’ as in ‘tall, like Fellaini’ remained uncertain, but within days we’d actually managed to not completely mess up the signing of Juan Mata. This was something of a shock and surely evidence of a u-turn in United’s thinking. In the summer we didn’t pursue a reputed interest in Özil due to still having hope that Kagawa would prove his worth, but surely Shinji’s legion of internet fanboys/apologists would now concede that he simply hasn’t worked out?

Mata, like Kagawa, is undoubtedly a great talent. Unlike Kagawa, however – he’s demonstrated the ability to adapt his talents to the demands of English football. If Moyes has lost patience with Kagawa’s failings and come to the conclusion his future lies elsewhere, then I at least applaud his decisiveness. One of the obvious shortcomings of United’s squad at present is that there are too many habitual under performers – limited players on top wages and long term deals who are going to prove difficult and expensive to replace. Young, Cleverley and Valencia (the first 3 who come to mind… there are more) need to be moved on ruthlessly and efficiently. Signing a player of Mata’s calibre is all well and good, but it’s only going to start paying dividends when he’s joined by 3-4 more of a similar standard.

It was interesting to note the reactions of certain blue-tinged acquaintances of mine following the Mata signing. It’s fair to say they were a tad miffed by events, with them being so well-versed now in outspending United during each transfer window. One on my radar even attempted to outlandishly claw back some moral high ground by asserting that “City have never spent that much on a player.” This didn’t ring true at all, which prompted me to check and discover that Aguero cost them £38M and Tevez, reputedly as much as £45M. City fans taking umbrage with United’s spending – you have to admire their chutzpah, you really do.

Even more comical was the recent publication of City’s accounts for their financial year ending May 2013. Everything appears to be going swimmingly for ‘the project’: losses are down to a mere £52M and their income is now the 6th highest of any club in Europe, a total of £271M. It’s only when you scratch beneath the surface they reveal this figure includes £143M from sponsoring themselves and another £44M from selling intellectual property rights (again, to themselves.) Unsurprisingly, with this fantasy island income stream in place, they are more than confident of meeting UEFA’s FFP requirements. “Growing revenues and controlled expenses are bringing the club to break even in the immediate future, and profitability thereafter.”

I’m going to presume they edited out the “…LOL, not really!”

Copyright Red News – February 2014

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Demon Days

The recent derby was a textbook example of how completely and utterly miserable football can make us feel on occasion. A vintage case of go home, go to bed early, media blackout for 5 days and everything can just fuck the fucking fuck off. So due to having nothing positive to say about anything at present, this month’s column has been abandoned and we’ll instead acknowledge our current woes by wallowing in the 10 most depressing results of the last 30 years. I’ve thought long and hard about this selection – I considered putting in games from yesteryear but decided to keep it personal by only selecting games/results experienced myself. So tough shit, Bobby Stokes – you missed the cut.

Note: Some may baulk at the non-inclusion of, say, for instance, the Champions League final defeats to Barca. I’ve tried to keep it real and opted for games that triggered genuine doom. Of course I was gutted losing to Barca but it was no great surprise and there was no great mental hangover afterwards… these are the results that proved difficult to shake for weeks and months, not just a couple of days as was the case post Rome/Wembley.

Liverpool (Wembley) League Cup Final – (1-2) March 1983

norman

I wasn’t at this game, instead I listened to it on Radio 2 live radio commentary in my Gran’s front room – it was played at 3pm on a Saturday so wasn’t even on telly. All started very well with Norman’s opener before the Scousers equalised near the end and then won it via Ronnie Whelan’s curler in extra-time. I call still recall the sense of rage and injustice at the description of Grobbelaar’s outrageous assault on McQueen… unsurprisingly not punished due to the referee being George Courtney – not the last time we’d suffer at his hands. I cried after this. Tears. Proper tears.

Nottingham Forest (H) FA Cup QF – (0-1) March 1989

forest programme

This one gets the nod just ahead of McClair’s penalty miss at Arsenal that saw us dumped out of the FA Cup in the 5th round a year previously – heartbreaking at the time because it happened in the one season when McClair never missed. Again I wasn’t present and instead listened to this on the BBC world service as I was stuck in Northern Germany somewhere on a school exchange. It was horrendous. The family I stayed with had a massive Alsatian that crapped in my room and for tea we had cabbage and sausages every night. Another refereeing injustice here as well. Brian Hill he was called. Shithead.

Manchester City (A) – (1-5) September 1989

5-1

Early-season giddiness stemming from the acquisitions of Webb, Pallister and Ince, the proposed Knighton takeover and the opening day thrashing of Arsenal had been well and truly obliterated following 3 successive defeats which left United down in 16th place by mid-September. Nevertheless, we’d spanked Millwall 5-1 the week before so there was some grounds for optimism as we headed to Maine Road – City were below us having only won one game all season. What followed was as baffling as it was depressing. United missed numerous chances and despite being on the defensive for much of the game, the 5 chances City had all went in. Mercifully, it was the last thing they had to celebrate for the next 2 decades.

Liverpool (A) – (0-2) April 1992

anfield 92

I recall queuing for 7 hours one Sunday morning to get a ticket for this. What had all season long promised to be a title winning party instead turned out to be a truly harrowing afternoon. In reality, all Liverpool did was confirm the inevitable with Leeds having stumbled past Sheffield United earlier in the day. A sequence of 3 miserable results in just 5 days had already killed off United’s hopes – a draw at Luton, the bank holiday Monday defeat at home to Forest and then Kenny Brown’s goal at West Ham. It was official, we really would never win the league.

West Ham United (A) – (1-1) May 1995

west ham

This was another killer. It began as a case of ‘more hope than expectation’ but as the afternoon developed there was the gradual realisation that Blackburn were indeed in the process of bottling it and a winner at Upton Park would give a United a 3rd successive title. Following McClair’s timely equaliser and despite over half an hour of bombardment of the West Ham penalty area, it just wouldn’t fucking go in. A timid showing in the FA Cup final a week later merely heightened the gloom

Fenerbahce (H) Champs League Group Stage – (0-1) October 1996

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer

This one hurt. Really hurt. The end of a the 50 year unbeaten home record in Europe and we lost it to Fenerbahce… who were absolutely shite and could barely believe their luck. United were on a shocking run at the time (we’d just lost 5-0 at Newcastle and 6-3 at Southampton) but there’s no way we should have lost this game – it just seemed so careless. A 50 year unbeaten home record surrendered to Fenerbahce of all people. Barcelona, Real Madrid, Juve, Milan, Ajax… that would be understandable – not like losing to this rabble. Big sulk after this one.

Borussia Dortmund (H) Champs League SF – (0-1) April 1997

dortmund

Having scraped through the group stages following Eric and Schmeichels’ masterclass in Vienna and then battered Porto… arguably the best team left in the tournament other than Juventus – only Dortmund stood between United and a place in the final. It really looked like it was on too, especially after coming away from the 1st leg in Germany unlucky to have suffered a single goal defeat. The overriding (admittedly naive) feeling was they were very beatable and would crumble under pressure at OT. Sadly, as we were to experience numerous times in subsequent years, it’s rarely that simple. Despite battering Dortmund and creating countless chances, they scored early and somehow kept United at bay. What’s worse, the then imperious Juventus suffered a rare off-day in the final and the unfancied Germans beat them easily.

Manchester City (H) – (1-2) February 2008

6-1

The 50th anniversary of Munich game, an occasion everyone connected with the club had been looking forward to for months. An opportunity to provide a fitting tribute to those who lost their lives in the crash, given even more of an emotional charge due to the fact City would be providing the opposition. It was sure to be a day to remember and as anticipated, there was one team that seemed overcome with the sense of occasion that day. Unfortunately it was United.

Manchester City (H) – (1-6) October 2011

divs

I saw what was happening here and fled the scene with 10 minutes to go, just after Fletcher had made it 3-1. Unfortunately it soon got worse. Much worse. After getting out of a cab on Deansgate, a mate and I took refuge in the Cornerhouse bar as it seemed the safest bet not to contain anything or anybody football-related. We then drank in abject silence whilst I mentally debated the best way of getting home without seeing any blues – a tricky prospect when you live in Stockport. An absolutely sickening day, but still doesn’t compare with what we’d experience at the end of the season.

Sunderland (A) – (1-0) May 2012

sunderland

Or more to the point, Manchester City vs Queens Park Rangers (3-2) May 2012. The most recent and still the most painful. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever get over the gut-wrenching feeling of that last 5 minutes. Ever. Not being dramatic, either – I genuinely mean it. As much as anything it’s the knowledge we were *that* close to inflicting on them something that would have eclipsed all the previous cock-ups that have littered their history – them losing the league from that position would have topped the lot. They had scarves printed already, out on sale in the open on Market Street the week previously. How wonderful would it have been to have got hold of one of them? The fuckers would have never lived it down. There’s all that, plus the certain knowledge that no matter how long we carry on ‘doing’ football, we’ll never be able to inflict the same amount of pain on them. Sorry, but it’s true.

Bastards.

Copyright Red News – October 2013

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In The Bleak Midwinter

“Nani and Anderson having good days, Cleverley buzzing around like the anti-Gibson, Young looking instantly comfortable on the OT stage and Rooney back to his imperious best…it’s hard not to sound giddy.” This, dear reader, was me getting a little bit carried away in this column back in September – caught up in that early season period where we fleetingly looked untouchable and the possibilities seemed endless. It was a brief foray into positive thinking and it won’t happen again. So tonight (Matthew), we’re going to party like it’s 2005. Dooooom is back.

Even during those carefree days of our autumnal bloom, things didn’t feel quite right. Although the midfield was stringing some delightful, intricate passing manoeuvres together (think Bolton away), at times (like Arsenal and Chelsea at home) it resembled an ever-widening chasm. It just seemed churlish to dwell too much on that back then, as new faces appeared to be bedding in nicely and the team took on an air of free-scoring invincibility.

I expressed certain reservations to a mate post-Chelsea that if we didn’t make some changes, big problems might lie on the horizon in the shape of Liverpool and City. As it turned out, another lukewarm Anfield showing gave no hint as to the horror of what would unfold a week later in the derby. I’ve still not seen the last three City goals, nor will I ever – sitting through several first-hand accounts from traumatised friends and relatives was bad enough.

No apologies for leaving at 3-1, either. I suffered every second of the 5-1 back in ’89, slumped in the rapidly emptying Platt Lane as City celebrated. It wasn’t pleasant and isn’t an experience I’m intent on ever repeating. Top tip: the bar in the Cornerhouse makes for an effective, non-football, post-match hiding place.

Doom-laden United fans have had a tough time of things since the unexpected return to title winning form in 2007. 4 league titles in five years and 3 European Cup finals was much more than papering over cracks, it was the most sustained period of success in the club’s history. It’s hard to make a case for imminent disaster when your team is hoovering up silverware and (depending on if you can make sense of the financial reports) seemingly making inroads into paying off the mountainous debt our lovely owners saddled us with.

Yes, us doom-mongers have been quietened to some extent in recent years. Ongoing gripes about the gaping hole in central midfield have provided some respite but Green & Gold campaign aside, continued success on the pitch has neutered widespread complaint about overall lack of investment. We just sound like spoilt bastards when we moan. Other clubs would kill to be in our position, surely?  Just look at the pretty, silver trophies and shush…

Failure to qualify for the latter stages of the Champions League, however, means that questions are going to be asked. A favourable draw should have secured an easy passage into the last 16. So is it complacency, arrogance or lack of personnel that’s led us into the footballing purgatory of the Europa League?

It’s probably a mixture of all three. Qualifying year on year has seen the group stages reduced to something team and fans alike have started to sleepwalk through. People trot out the cliché about CL nights at OT being ‘special’ and possessing some sort of unique atmosphere. What atmosphere? The second half of the Benfica fixture was played out in virtual silence. I met up with a mate in town prior to that game, a home and away red for many years – and he genuinely thought we were playing Crystal Palace in the League Cup that night. Amusing in itself, but indicative of the disregard many of us hold for the group stages these days. Once upon a time, any participation in the European Cup was something to be cherished – early finishes from work and a lengthy session pre-match were de rigueur.

Of course it’s not just in the stands where malaise has been evident. On-pitch performances have veered between slack and shambolic, particularly at home. I’m never slow to criticise Nani, the guy infuriates me and his decision making makes me despair – but the decision to leave him out of the Basel home game was a shocker, particularly with Rooney being out injured. Although erratic, at least he’ll try to make things happen – even if they don’t always come off. Where others are ponderous and instinctively look to consolidate, he’s CREATIVE. Basel arrived at OT and for 20 minutes looked absolutely terrified, an hour later they were playing us off the park. They should have been smashed out of sight.

When the question of us struggling was raised in the press conference following dropped points vs Benfica, Ferguson was incredulous and dismissed the notion out of hand. Although a perfectly valid point given our laboured performances, to him the suggestion was ridiculous, insulting even. He obviously has continued faith in our enduring ability to do just about enough to get over the line as we’ve managed to do time and time again…only this time we fell short.

It’s only taken a couple of injuries for the known problem area of the squad to be exposed once more. Cleverley has proved a huge loss, one far greater than should be the case for a player with only half a dozen appearances to his name. Carrick, Park and Fletcher continue to labour through most games, in turns low in confidence/form, ability and fitness. Pogba and Morrison are presumably not considered quite ready yet – so consequently Phil Jones now finds himself a first choice central midfielder.

Fergie’s position on the matter is maddening. I mean, we all love the guy for what he’s achieved here and congratulations on doing 25 years and getting a stand named after you and all that… but what the fuck? Are we seriously supposed to believe that he’s truly content with this midfield? Under previous regimes he’s always spent big when necessary – the (spit) ‘value’ line trotted out in recent times just doesn’t add up. We are Manchester United and have always had to pay above and beyond the perceived market rate, whether that be £2.3M on Gary Pallister or £31M on Rio Ferdinand – both astronomical fees at the time. There was no mention of value then, it was ‘we needed this player, this is what he cost’.

If Fergie/Gill played a straight bat (ha!), simply held their hands up and said ‘look, we can no longer afford the going rate for the player we really need anymore’ (you can guess who I’m alluding to – the one beginning with ‘S’, always injured, allegedly after a private jet…or someone like him) then we could deal with it and at least there’d be some acknowledgement of the elephant in the room. It’s absurd to try and put a figure on ‘value’ in modern football anyway – it recently cost £40 or so to watch the reserves play Palace. That doesn’t strike me as particularly good ‘value’ either but we’re still expected to pay it.

So there we have it. Vidic out for the season, City top of the league, midfield still fucked, we’re in the Europa League and Darron Gibson’s available for selection. Merry Christmas.

Copyright Red News – December 2011

Photography copyright Ian Bramham www.ianbramham.com

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