Sunday, 13 February 2011

Bar the Shouting

Well it ain't rocket science, and I'm not trying to make out that I'm some kind of expert, 'cos I'm not. However, I did tell you so. Blunt up front; pretty but not incisive; lacking a cutting edge. Says it all. I watched the first half in a fug of Billy Orr at Doyle's Tavern on the Cally, flouncing out after the Nani goal was loudly cheered by the bin men (not - perhaps surprisingly - the source of the B.O. as it happens. Or am I being prejudicial towards these key workers?) in the corner and heading to John Lewis for kids' shoes.

Part of me was thinking that splitting my attention in this way might actually affect the result, and Twitter updates gave me some false hope that the tactic was working when Silva's diminutive Spanish ass cheeks deflected in the equaliser. Of course, this is superstitious guff and I would normally sneer at others for displaying such unscientific behaviour, yet football remains the one area in which I do genuinely think that my own actions can somehow influence unconnected events. Not to be, and - truth be told - more than a little depressing n the cold light of day this morning.

And yet, as I've always said, the quality of the game is more important than the result, and we played all right I suppose. Dzeko was unconvincing, Tevez subdued, Silva was excellent but should have scored (properly I mean, not with an accidental arse flick) on 4 minutes. Sodding Rooney's wonder strike aside (btw, News of the World [and other] hacks, quoting Rio Ferdinand's tweets does NOT count as journalism) we probably deserved a point out of the match, but really should have driven the three of them home in the first half. Now it looks as if a tilt at the title will be out of the question, and even a top four finish is by no means certain, with Spurs still coming up with the goods.

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