Best Laid Plans for Milan
Rooney’s chubby middle finger to science and the so-called ‘laws of gravity’ were the main talking points of the weekend just gone. A goal so good that even after the slow-motion had revealed that it was the grizzled striker’s shin bone doing most of the work, it was still lauded as the bestest ever by pretty much any United fan with the inclination to declare such things. He’s back, we were told, for what seems like the thousandth time this month. Well, yes, maybe- twas a phenomenal effort. But someone raised the point yesterday that had it been scored by, oh I don’t know, Hugo Rodallega, perhaps there might not have been such a fuss. It’s a fair point, I suppose. But hardly a shock given the oft hysterical tone of our nation’s tabloids; one in particular, seeing fit to mark his performance a full 10/10. Presumably for the goal alone.
The wider context of the strike for those followers of Lilywhite- after all that’s what we’re here for- is that as well as driving a wedge betwixt the Oil Barons and the big pot, it claws the gap between us and them to just two with one in hand. Throw in another couple lost by Ancelloti’s lot yesterday and these are interesting times we live in. We’re not done yet. Not by a long shot.
Talking of unnecessary hyperbole, Niko Kranjcar’s second winner in the space of a week was a thing of staggering beauty. Technique, balance, execution. The result, as our leader quite rightly mused after the game, of countless hours slog on the training ground. Left foot, right foot, left foot. Putting the time in, perfecting his game. And his reward, I hear you ask? One would imagine a start this evening.
And so back to the San Siro. Another European powerhouse, another relative step into the unknown for us Champions League newbies. AC Milan. Seven times winners. In Ibrahimovic, Pato and Robinho, an attacking triumvirate matched only by the best of La Liga. Man alive, it’s going to be an evening to remember. Word of Gareth Bale’s failure to get his dicky back ironed out in time is somewhat distressing news. If there was a weakness in the Milan locker- frustratingly with regards to the Welshman’s knack of making even the very best full-backs in the world look slipshod and cumbersome- it is indeed their full-backs. Timing, too, the curse of Modric’s early-February appendicitis, which had the bloody cheek not to be all cleared up for a start in Lombardy. Apparently he will travel, though. Which is just dandy. Van der Vaart, as far as anyone can make out, is primed and ready for action. A massive night, then, for some of the old guard. Defoe, Lennon, Dawson. Time to show Europe that this is a stage were they can thrive and prosper. No more talk, no Charlie Big Stones in front of the press pits, none of this tired we’ve got a top, top squad capable of beating anyone nonsense. Just go out there and bloody do it. The world is watching. 1-0 Defoe winner. COYS!
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