Dissecting the Derby

The buildup play was nothing out of the ordinary. Berbatov was involved… Paul Scholes found an attacker on the right with a pass that, for him, was all in a day’s work. Nani tried to cross early; the ball took a slight deflection off a City player and dropped kindly for United’s number 10…

“Kindly” indeed. It wasn’t as though Wayne Rooney was waiting a yard or two away from goal, with the goalkeeper stranded and the opposition defense caught up the pitch. As the ball dropped behind (yes, behind) him, he would not have had the time to think of previous months gone by. The injury in Munich last March…. watching from the sidelines as United’s European (and eventually league) campaign faded away…. England’s (yes, for the umpteenth time it was England’s, and not just his!) horrendous world cup…. his inappropriate off-field behavior…. his public outcry against United’s “lack of ambition”…. watching helplessly from his rehabilitation center in the US while the first Manchester derby ended up being a drab, goalless affair at the Stadium of Light... Fate, it seemed, was ”kind” to Rooney because the ball dropped behind him, because he was facing away from goal with all the City defenders in their own half and with Joe Hart in position. It was as though someone from above was dropping him a line and saying, “Go on, son. We’re being “kind” to you by placing you in a situation from which if you score, everything will be forgotten”. It wasn’t just an overhead kick from about 10 yards out found that top corner, and it wasn’t just an outrageous winner in the 77^th minute of a football match. It was against Manchester City. It effectively knocked City out of the title race. And most importantly, it made sure that Manchester United were not going to be scavenged on after being mauled by Wolves last week. In the larger scheme of things, perhaps, what came after was equally significant. Rooney ran to the corner flag, inhaled (seemingly for the first time since March 2010), and saluted the fans, those fickle know-it-alls who were delirious with joy and were chanting his name once again. And honestly, who can blame them?!? I ought to have heard myself!! The fact that the gaffer, after 24 years of prowling the touchlines of Old Trafford, said that it was the greatest goal he had seen scored at the ground, spoke volumes. It also spoke of the relief that Alex Ferguson must have felt after backing his front-man to the hilt, even after openly confessing to a shell shocked media 5 months ago that Rooney had wanted away. By questioning United’s ambition, Rooney had indirectly questioned the integrity of a man who, during his 24 years at the helm, had landed 11 league titles, 5 FA cups, and 2 European Cups. He had broken (and it hardly matters whether it was his own doing or whether he had been the victim of wrong advice) through the now artificial barrier of “no player is bigger than the club”, had done so with consummate ease, and, unlike several others before him, had lived to tell the tale. This afternoon, he went quite a long way towards redemption.

Unfortunately, the wonder-strike put a veil over a United performance that left little to be satisfied about. The home side were slow off the blocks and created very few openings. City asserted themselves each time they played in United’s half (which wasn’t that often) and looked the more potent attacking threat. David Silva, despite missing a guilt-edged chance within the first few minutes of the game, was a constant menace. However, but for the taunts and jeers from the United fans each time he even came close to touching the ball, you wouldn’t have known that Carlos Tevez was on the pitch! Shunted out of the game by Chris Smalling (who had an outstanding 90 minutes), Tevez hardly had a sight of goal. As has traditionally been their strength, United looked to repeatedly utilize width. What was glaring was the lack of targets in the six-yard box for the wide players to find, with Dimitar Berbatov, the leading goalscorer in the league, being inexplicably relegated to the bench. Some of the combination play between Rooney and Berbatov had been encouraging (if not sublime) in previous games and unfortunately, the latter’s exclusion from the starting lineup can only be seen as a case of him being made a scapegoat to accommodate an extra man in United’s poor midfield. Since Roy Keane, we have lacked someone at the center of the pitch who can grab a game by the scruff of its neck. No one can fault Darren Fletcher for commitment and to be perfectly honest, he has been terrific in some tight affairs. But to be equally honest, he’s no Keano. Michael Carrick seems to have lost his way, and the less said about Owen Hargreaves’ predicament the better! Uncharacteristically (for he has been a pastmaster of knowing when to replace players), Ferguson doesn’t seem to be concerned that Paul Scholes cannot play forever. At this point in time, one can only hope that, like his Portuguese co-signing Nani, Anderson suddenly catches fire and steps up to the plate. Finally, I only have this to say for those who point to United’s “lack of funds” as the reason behind them not looking into the transfer market for a midfielder. If we can shell out 7 mill for a Portuguese nobody (no disrespect here, but even the eternal optimist will think twice before betting on Bebe to rise to stardom), surely…. SURELY… we could have snapped up, or at least BID for Rafael van der Vaart?!? 

RESPECTING LIVERPOOL… REBUKING TORRES

Upon reading this piece of writing, the football fan is advised not to form any illusions. As a rule, Manchester United fans (the entire spectrum, from the wanna-bes, to the day-to-days, to the die-hards) DO NOT talk up (let alone sympathize with) Liverpool FC. Far from being a sympathy vote, however, this stems out of respect for an old enemy, an eternal foe. In the light of the well known and bitter rivaly that exists between them, people prefer to think of these two great clubs as poles apart and sometimes, are blind to things that they have in common. Both clubs have historically been the major power-houses of English football (Liverpool in the 70s and 80s, and United over the last two decades or so), have had illustrious European histories and global fan-bases stretching across the five continents, and have been both plundered by American owners and graced by Scottish legends. Lately, both clubs have had to deal with (and mind you, quickly) soap operas surrounding their respective want-away talismanic center forwards. The persuasion of Wayne Rooney to stay at United (albeit, quite literally, at a heavy price) has ensured that he is still revered (if not worshipped) by the Stretford end faithful. I could hardly control my emotions when I saw him re-find his form to bag a fantastic brace against Aston Villa last Wednesday. Fact: the average football fan is fickle, and anyone who tells you otherwise either isn’t one him(her)self, or is a downright liar. This said, you can only speculate the sort of reception that Fernando Torres would have received from your die-hard scouser (of the red variety anyway) had he chosen to walk out of the tunnel on to the Stamford Bridge pitch this Sunday still wearing Liverpool’s red.

To say that Torres has broken many a Liverpudlian’s heart in securing his “dream move” (to quote the player himself) would be one of modern football’s biggest understatements. To say that the switch is “a big step forward” in his career is downright laughable. By all accounts, Liverpool have had a shambolic last two years; two years that have masked a greater period of trophy famine spanning two decades. Apart from a brief throw-back to the glory days of the 70s and 80s on a truly miraculous (and, may I add, forgettable from an A. C. Milan or a Manchester United point of view!) night in Istanbul in 2005, there has been little to celebrate barring a couple of FA Cup triumphs. Success in Europe in 2005 was seen as “a new era of glory” for LFC, with the propagandists little realizing that Rafa Benitez, far from having imposed his authority in the Anfield dressing room, had merely relied on moments of inspirational brilliance from Steven Gerrard and co. But for Gerrard’s wonder-strike in the dying minutes of a fast-fading European campaign at Olympiacos (former sky pundit Andy Gray’s words of “YOU BEEAAUUTAAIII” still rings in the ears), the Benitez regime may well have come to an end much sooner than the six years for which it lasted. Despite these draught-laiden times, the one thing that Liverpool never lost (and probably will never lose) is the vociferous support from its fans. Again, my insides ache as I admit that 40-odd-1000 sound more like 100,000 on the worst of European nights at Anfield. This compliment, again, coming from a United fan. It is these adoring fans that Torres has chosen to betray and leave. Is betrayal a strong word here? I believe not, considering the fact that Torres has been the heartthrob of an adoring Kop in recent times, when the fans have had to put up with consistently mediocre performances from other players barely of the caliber expected of those fit to wear the famous red shirt. Cynics will say that his form had suffered earlier this season, that he needed a move and left for ”footballing reasons”. Moreover, there are factions of the Kop who are more than happy with the unproven replacements that Liverpool have signed – Luis Suarez (the last striker who came to a big premiership side from the Dutch league was Mateja Kezman) and Andy Carroll (now burdened by a heavy price-tag in addition to the inevitable hype from the English media).  A closer scrutiny of the change in tide at Anfield will tell them exactly the opposite – that the Spaniard should have STAYED for “footballing reasons”. What better “footballing reason” can you possibly have than the fact that the managerial reigns of the club had just been taken over by none other than Kenny Dalglish?!? I must admit that I was awestruck to see (and hear) the reception he got when he walked out to the dugout for his first home game in charge. Until then, all I had known about him was that he had been a great player for Liverpool during their glory days, had been signed by them to replace Kevin Keegan, and had managed Blackburn Rovers to their first and only league title (pipping United) in the mid 90s. He immediately reminded me of his fellow Scotsman whose managerial masterclasses have repeatedly saved Manchester United both on and (more significantly) off the pitch. If Torres’ reasoning was that he was leaving Liverpool to move to “a bigger club”, again, he is sorely mistaken. With all due respect to Chelsea (they have been a big-spending force who have risen as major contenders in England and Europe only over the last 5 years or so), I’m afraid that they just don’t come much bigger than Liverpool or Manchester United. How Chelsea manage to fit Torres into their system and style of play while at the same time, keep Didier Drogba and an uncharacteristically content Nicholas Anelka happy remains to be seen. It is perhaps an apt subject of discussion for a later time.

At this point, every United fan reading laboriously through this is already wishing me ill-will. How on earth can a self-proclaimed Manchester United fanatic call Liverpool FC “a big club”?? They will not have to dig deep to reason for themselves. No United supporter can deny the fact that the Barclays Premier League fixtures that they most look forward to are United’s trip to Anfield and Liverpool’s reciprocal visit to ”the theater of dreams” (and this includes the two Manchester derbys). When United clash with Liverpool, league positions count for virtually nothing, and form-books go flying out of the window. During a relatively barren run of three years without winning the league title (2004-2006), I confess that my next immediate concern was whether (or not) we won at Anfield. The takehome message: the very fact that we consider Liverpool to be our biggest rivals (irrespective of their indifferent and inconsistent league performances in recent times) is a testament to the fact that they are indeed “a big club”. In other words, being number one in the hit list of a club as big as Manchester United ought to be sufficient to be considered “big”!! Despite currently topping the league, our own form this season has been patchy, particularly away from home. While the traditional never-say-die “comeback-kings” trait has repeatedly expressed itself, the ruthlessness, attacking flair, and the ability to finish sides off (characteristics so typical of Sir Alex Ferguson’s previous United sides) has often at times gone missing. While a strong Liverpool is by no means a pre-requisite for a strong United, the mere sight of a revitalized, rejuvenated Liverpool should provide an incentive to raise our level of football by a further notch of two. Two seasons ago, United recovered strongly after being thrashed 1-4 by Liverpool at Old Trafford to deny Rafa Benitez a potentially job-prolonging maiden league title. Steven Gerrard may have won the day, but Gary Neville ultimately walked away with the spoils.

Speaking of…. It has been an incredible journey. A cumbersome performance against West Brom on new years’ day convinced Gary Neville to call time on a career that any United youngster would give anything to replicate. Arguably the least talented among those of “Fergie’s Fledgelings” who graduated into first-team regulars, Neville has carved his name into the club’s folklore through sheer determination and a steely resolve to perform consistently. Memories of wild celebrations along with Edwin van der Saar in front of a thunderstruck Kop in 2007, and countless overlapping runs on United’s right-hand side to support his more glamorous and talented best friend (a certain David Beckham) come flooding back. During times when the game is headed in the direction of inflated contracts and exorbitant transfer fees, football will miss “Mr. Manchester United”.