Kill The Poor

Journalists writing rubbish, you couldn't make it up... Here's the last paragraph of The Observer's match report:

United were lucky – they had been poor.

The manager's reaction? You couldn't make it up. The referee, Alan Wiley, was to blame. "He wasn't fit enough", the old growler said, adding: "It's an indictment of our game. Abroad, the referees are fit as butchers' dogs." Clearly, the man's barking.

Right. Here's the fuller version of what Sir Alex actually said:

"I was disappointed with the referee," said Ferguson. "He didn't add on any time for the goal. He played four minutes and two seconds.

"He was also walking up the pitch for the second goal needing a rest. He was not fit enough for a game of that standard. The pace of the game demanded a referee who was fit. He was not fit. It is an indictment of our game.

"You see referees abroad who are as fit as butcher's dogs. We have some who are fit. He wasn't fit. He was taking 30 seconds to book a player. He was needing a rest. It was ridiculous." ...

"It was a soft goal to lose," admitted Ferguson. "Our passing was very poor in the first half. In the end we needed to show some great qualities to get something out of the game on a day when we played really badly."

Which is a little different. He didn't use the uselessness of Wiley to hide from the poor nature of our performance, just as Wiley's performance shouldn't be excused because we didn't play well. It seemed pretty obvious that Wiley, who was the fourth official in the Man City game, was never going to go over the 4 minutes, no matter what happened in them.

But anyway, like I say, we were poor and Sunderland were good. Most of the reports do at least give Sunderland credit, rather than dwelling on having a go at us. This, from the Observer again, sums it up nicely:

Sunderland, who arrived on the back of a 5-2 drubbing of Wolves, played with an impressive mixture of spirit, energy and pleasing, passing football. This last-named quality was never more evident than when Jones scored to make it 2-1 midway through the second half. In an incisively geometric build-up, Reid executed no fewer than three one-twos before lofting the ball into the penalty area, where Jones got to it ahead of the advancing Ben Foster and headed into the unguarded net.

While Sunderland were impressive, Foster really should have dealt with the ball. The combination of the two aspects combined led to the result, on another night we'd have beaten them even playing poorly, but they played beyond themselves. After getting back to 1-1 and looking livelier second half it is probably more of a testament to Sunderland than our bad play that they took the lead again and almost held it. Second half we weren't too bad, first half, we really were awful, The Mail On Sunday describe it best, saying that after their goal, we "spent the remainder of the first half in some sort of stupor."

The Manchester Evening News has a little praise for Nani, who wasn't good first half but whose play started the road to our recovery:

Nani was a suddenly a man inspired, twice causing confusion with direct runs, the second of which demanded a brave low save of Gordon to deny Wayne Rooney.

The clearance came straight back out to O’Shea, whose curling 51st-minute cross was perfectly met by Dimitar Berbatov’s overhead kick, which nestled in the bottom corner.

Also note that Berba is once again the runaway leader in the United Man of the match poll on the website. A bit disappointing that the result and the performance of the team means that Berba doesn't get the praise he deserves for such a quality strike.

Getting away from the game (as quickly as possible) Carrick has a few comments in the papers on England:

He scored a fine 78th-minute winner for United against Wolfsburg in the Champions League – just two minutes before Capello left Old Trafford.

“Maybe that was his last memory as he left,” said Carrick.

“I didn’t know he was there until someone told me he’d been sitting up there in the directors’ box. I hope I’m involved in the forthcoming internationals but it’s up to the manager and what he wants to do.

“All you can do is play well enough for your club and see what happens.

“You always wait for the squad to be announced and hope you are in it. It’s not a given at all. I’ll be looking and waiting for that text coming through.”

One other thing, an article on The Guardian blog about the longevity of Giggs, which is better than the usual praise, putting him in context with Raul:

However it looks on television, playing elite football into one's 30s requires a high pain threshold and a monkish willingness to forgo fame's pleasures. Demobbed players speak of their capacity to brave the post‑match agonies of stiffness and mental exhaustion as a bank account that is forever dwindling. One morning, as the veteran rolls from his bed to stretch and crack his body back to working order, he knows the end has come.

If Giggs and Raúl ever felt this revelation it soon passed. Car keys were grabbed and a course set for the training ground, again. See how their records sparkle. Raúl, who, incredibly, is only 32, has three Champions League titles and six La Liga crowns, and is the European Cup's all-time leading scorer. He also holds that status overall at Real Madrid, ahead of Alfredo di Stefano.

Giggs, who made his United debut in March 1991, is alone in having scored in every Premier League campaign. He chose a suitably auspicious occasion on which to pass Sir Bobby Charlton's United appearance record of 758: the 2008 Champions League final against Chelsea in Moscow, which United won. Around his neck hang 11 Premier League medals and two European Cup gongs. He is, by a furlong, the greatest of all Premier League luminaries, for his talent, his longevity and his ability to embody everything that goes to make up a Manchester United player. When Ronaldo high-stepped it to join Raúl in Madrid, the gaze settled on Wayne Rooney as the next best improviser, but Giggs has been at least as influential, bending in free‑kicks, scoring other important goals and supplying incisive passes from the No10 position. Without being asked to, one suspects, he saw that a creative spark had been lost and made it his duty to play the senior provider and finisher. ...

It was only in May that Paolo Maldini vacated Milan's No3 shirt after 24 years, at nearly 41 years old, leaving Giggs and Raúl as the last two aristocratic stayers. After another good week for dedication we salute the game's endangered one-club men, who come to express the culture that helped spawn them. Both were entitled to feel sated long ago. But they kept on running. They stayed in love.