Yakkety Sax

Partly because I need to keep my quota of posts up this month to reach my annual target (it's a silly numerological superstition, in which only I am interested - though that makes it all the more important. I will say no more...) and partly because I think these things need to be said, here's another footy piece, hot on the heels of the, er, last one. It will be short. And bitter.

What the hell was that all about? A reassuring return to the slapstick days of yore, with (one could say) all three of the Poles' goals ridiculously flukey, but most especially the second one, in off the face of the unsuspecting Poznan player. There's something peculiarly touching about Shay Given's face when he picks the ball out of the net.

I hasten to add that I am not defending City's performance, which was once again simply abject in too many areas of the pitch. I have grown weary of slagging off Wayne Bridge, so will do so no more, yet he simply is not good enough. And never was. Vieira on the other hand was (as we all must agree) once a very good player, but most definitely is not anymore.

I am also tired of the 'you can't buy success' mantra and the feeling that somehow City are more culpable because of the vast sums of money spent building up the team. Such a strategy, as we are seeing, carries its own risks, and I maintain my original assessment of Signor Mancini, in that he doesn't seem to know what the hell he is doing, and that his tactics are way too negative. One sturdy win against Chelsea (seems so long ago now) maketh not a title-winning side. Of course, against this backdrop (reprising one of my earlier, funnier posts) looms the Rag game, and any previous positive feelings I may have had are rapidly evaporating.

We can only watch and wait for the next act of the farce to unfold.