Holding Out for a Hero

Manchester United 2-0 Cardiff City 

The crowd sang Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s name as they looked, seemingly at times in vain, for a hero to rescue them. But this was not May 1999, this was January 2014. This was not Camp Nou but Old Trafford. And this was not Bayern Munich in the Champions League Final but Cardiff City in the Premier League.

Times have changed since that fateful night in Barcelona but the need for a hero still remained as Manchester United took to the pitch against Cardiff. Before the match began there was a tremendous reception for United’s former number 20 as he took his place on the opposition bench. On any other night his return would have been the story. However, on this night, Old Trafford welcomed back Robin Van Persie from injury. But the headline didn’t even go to the Dutch striker, on this night the main attraction in Manchester came from Spain via Chelsea. On this night United welcomed Juan Mata.

The game kicked off and the ‘Red Devils’ looked intent on attacking from the off. It didn’t take long for the ball to find its way to Mata and in turn Van Persie. On six minutes the Spaniard sprayed the ball to the left and found Ashley Young who checked back onto his right foot and swung in a cross that Antonia Valencia headed against the bar, Van Persie slotted the follow up from close range. But Old Trafford is a different place these days and an early 1-0 lead did nothing to lift the nerves that have settled over the ‘Theatre of Dreams’ during United’s bad form.

Cardiff fans were out singing their hosts. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been to Old Trafford often enough to know the home fans aren’t always the loudest but home fans rarely are. At the league cup semi final the 9000 Sunderland fans were excellent, but I’ve been to the Stadium of Light where they were silent. Spurs fans love to gloat about their away support but against Wigan last season they were out sung, BY WIGAN FANS! But even the Stretford End has been relatively quiet recently and, other than stirring to sing for Ole, this trend continued as Cardiff began to get a bit of a foothold in the match. There weren’t many clear cut chances but chances and crosses flashed across the box came and went as the home crowd gasped with horror built from recent games against Swansea and Sunderland.

Cardiff continued to push forward on the break as half time came and went and still looked bright on the counter in the second half. Then, with a flash of brilliance from none other than Ashley Young, that cloud of doubt, of nerves, of tension, was gone. Cutting in from the left Young hit the ball beyond the reach of David Marshall and it nestled into the back of the net. The crowd rose and cheered, sheer and utter relief!

There was singing, chanting and good, patient but attacking football. Mata and Jonny Evans came close with long range shots. Just to add to the party mood Van Persie was replaced by Wayne Rooney to a standing ovation that was extended for both players. Januzaj came on for Mata and the trick was repeated. Rooney nearly made it 3-0 with a cheeky chip and then Marshall saved well from Valencia.

This was neither a classic nor a tale for the ages. It was not a match that suggested United would win the title, or even finish in the top four. United still need to put together a run of form. But part of the nerves that shackle Old Trafford have begun to lift. In 99 Ole was the hero in a team of legends, now in a mediocre side United may need four heroes, when Mata, Januzaj, Van Persie and Rooney get on the pitch together they may just have them.

Helmet off, lift bat, punch gloves- Welcome to the 100 club Frank.

Centurions keep going, but how?

There were no 'nervous nineties' for Frank Lampard. They say, in cricket, that the last 10 runs leading up to a batsmen's century are the hardest and when he is most likely to freeze up and give his wicket away. I'm not sure whether the statistics back this up but Geoffrey Boycott, predictably, doesn't go along with conventional thinking.

Neither, it seems, does Lampard, the England midfielder scored more goals whilst on 90+ caps than he did in any previous grouping of 10. The Chelsea man netted an extremely impressive seven times in nine months from his winner in a friendly versus Spain to the equaliser against Ireland earlier this year. On Tuesday, however, Lampard failed to score in his 100th game for England when presented with the only real England chance of the World Cup Qualifier against Ukraine.

Lampard's achievement in reaching 100 caps for his country is nothing short of brilliant, it is of course a fantastic achievement for anyone. It's not that long ago that 'Lamps' found himself often booed by his own supporters during international matches and Gareth Barry found himself with the 'Man of the Match' award on at least one occasion pretty much on the basis of not being Frank Lampard. However there should be a huge asterisk next to the former West Ham midfielder's 100 caps, and the same goes for Messrs. Cole, Gerrard and, to a lesser degree, Beckham.

The three men are three of England's most decorated players of all time, based on caps. They have all relatively recently found themselves amongst the, now, eight players who have reached the 100 cap mark for England. One might suggest that it's fantastic in one generation, the generation that grew up in Premier League football, we've had four England legends worthy of playing over 100 times for this country. But a much more cynical truth exists. Look at the other names on the list- Peter Shilton, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton and Billy Wright. Only two other members of the illustrious list played in the same era and that was Moore and Charlton, World Cup Winners.

Cole, Gerrard and Lampard have all reached 100 caps, all started their international careers within two years of each other and have all won nothing! Of course no one since the era of Charlton and Moore has won any honours with England but no one else has achieved abject failure on more occasions than our three most recent centurions, simply because no one else has been given the chance. On Tuesday, against Ukraine, Gerrard and Lampard once again proved they are not the answer for England, as they have on many occasions since May 2000, when Gerrard made his England debut, there was little dynamism and both, Gerrard particularly, gave away the ball far too often. At left back Cole was actually one of England's best performers, probably only behind Gary Cahill, but the claims of Leighton Baines to start ahead of Cole are now so loud it's hard to see how Roy Hodgson continues to ignore them.

The experience the three men bring to the squad is unquestionable but how can other players get up to the 20+ caps that you'd hope most players would have going into major tournaments if the three biggest underachievers in international football continue to be road blocks into the starting XI. Of course it's not the players fault, they are merely indicative of the problems all recent England managers have faced. Mainly "who is there to replace the players in possession of the shirts?".

Should England qualify and inevitably fail in their quest to win the 2014 World Cup, or even should they not qualify, it would be Cole and Gerrard's 7th failed attempt at a tournament with Lampard one back. We should doff our caps to these very talented players but we should surely question how they have amassed more than 300 caps between them whilst remaining highly unsuccessful.

Having got through the nervous nineties together the partnership must surely be over soon. The 'Golden Generation' might as well have been out for a golden duck!

Dunoon What We're Doing!

"David Batty passes to Beckham. Beckham now plays a wonderful cross field ball to Scholes. Scholes with a wonderful through ball to the feet of Sidle. Sidle round Blanc and now only Barthez to beat, he must score....he does! SIDLE WINS THE WORLD CUP FOR ENGLAND!"

Swamp monster Josh

  I must have played this scene, or one like it (David Batty probably wasn't playing), a million times or more during my childhood. That dream changed over the years as the obvious realisation that Blanc would have retired by the time I played in the World Cup sunk in. Okay so that's not the actual reason the dream changed. First it changed to scoring the winning goal in an MJSL Cup final and more recently my dream is to manage the winning side in the same Sunday League trophy. Time, fitness and ability take their toll I guess.

A few months ago, just as my dream of playing in a World Cup had really died a death, I'm even too old to go and live in Tahiti (for example) gain citizenship and play for them these days, my good friend Josh Taylor messaged me on Facebook and asked if I fancied going to Scotland to take part in the Swamp Soccer World Cup. Well there might not be a Cristano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi playing but I wasn't going to say no.

Finally, after a bloody long wait, myself, Josh, Simon Lazarus, Ben Taylor (Josh's brother), Gary Backman, Simon Church and James Laskier made the journey up to Dunoon, west of Glasgow, to take part.  The premise is simple, 6-a-side football played in a Swamp. Pitches of mud, churned up by JCB's and pumped with water the whole day.

The excitement and nerves were palpable as, after a 5 hour drive, 1 hour stop at a service station, half an hour to stop to get a ball because we were turning up to a football tournament without a football, a 20 minute ferry ride and 10 minutes stuck behind literally the slowest driver ever, we arrived at the campsite. Half of us arrived 2 minutes late for registration and we were all only half an hour away from kick off in match one. Josh handed out the shirts and Ben the shorts, much humour was taken from me being far too fat for the first pair handed to me- thanks Ben.

As we waited for our match the ref told us the rules. 'Jostling', as he put it, was allowed. In Scotland they don't usually speak a different language but the word jostling definitely has a different meaning south of the border. If the Swamp doesn't get you then the opposition will and that first half of the first game was as difficult as anything I've done before. We were beat but had it not been for several Backman wondersaves it would have been more.

Defeated but not downhearted we took stock and regrouped. Taking stock we realised that every other team had at least 4 subs to our one and had bigger players than we did. Regrouping we decided to laugh at our exploits and wonder in amazement at some of our 'keepers' saves. Whilst stopping to have our picture taken we were 'photobombed' by a local lad. Russell was desperate to play and clearly drunk but we needed players; "find a white t-shirt and you're in" Josh told our new found friend.

Whilst waiting, and warming up, for match two Russell appeared with a white t-shirt and shorts. Of course I instantly managed to offend him by calling him 'our Henrik Larsson'. For the Manchester United fans amongst us that's a compliment, Russell was a Celtic fan, I decided against mentioning his hair was reminiscent of a young Kenny Dalglish.

7 friends and 1 random drunk hero

In match two Russell really was our hero, his mix of what seemed to be actual footballing ability and drunken splendour meant he through himself into every challenge and played as if this was a normal 6-a-side pitch. At half time in match two we were 3-1 down and well in the game and this was our downfall. We pushed forward believing, far too much, in our chances at victory and were beaten on the break. The match finished 6-2 and Russell disappeared, presumably to get another beer.

With the rain, the two losses and an hour and a half wait till the next match, morale dropped slightly as we huddled between two cars to stay as warm as in possible whilst drenched in mud. Thoughts turned to the last game and putting in our all to one last effort and mentions of diving saves, hilarious misses and, of course, our good friend Russell and his drunken (and possibly drug fuelled) antics meant that spirits were not down for long. We taped up our boots, devoured some venison burgers and got ready for game three.

What happened in game three shall remain in game three. With the ground even more of a marsh land and the seven novices of Buried F.C facing a 12 man squad that had five years experience behind it we crumbled to a big defeat. When the whistle went to signify the end of our 'competitive' time in the tournament the final score didn't matter. Shattered but happy half of the team began a pile on, I looked at Josh and we both started running- if you can't execute the Jurgen Klinsman dive at this point in life you may as well give up now.

We were knackered, we were beaten but we enjoyed ourselves as much as we ever had and we knew we'd definitely be back next year.

Of course there was no winning goal for Sidle, or Backman, Church, Laskier, Lazarus or Taylor for that matter. There was no Ronaldo or Barthez.

And Messi?

Just a little!

Simply, the Best!

Recently my blog posts, it could easily be said, have been written as a fan first and a blogger second. I'd argue that I am a football fan first and a blogger second so all my blog posts have been written in such a way.

I get equal joy in being a football fan as I do writing about the sport and so it gives me as much pleasure writing about Manchester United winning the Premier League as it did to be at Old Trafford on Monday to see them beat Aston Villa 3-0 and thus capture the Premier League title. Well okay, that's a slight lie.

Yes United wrapped up their 13th Premier League title on Monday night with four games to spare with a points gap that currently stands at 16 points. There is a good chance that the gap to closest rivals, Manchester City, will come down by the end of the season; City have a game in hand and United have the harder remaining fixtures. That though should not take away from the fantastic achievement of this title winning side. After all a team winning a title with so long to go, relatively, will always be remembered as a great side of course.....

Apparently not!

On winning the league, and even before hand, it has been levelled that Sir Alex Ferguson's side is not 'one of his best' and that, even more ridiculously, United have only won the title because everyone else is rubbish.

Champions always deserve to be champions, this much can be said of all league campaigns. That is not to say that you don't need a tinge of luck but over such a long competition the team that wins and the teams who get relegated will always be the best and worst respectively.

Is it SAF's best ever United team? No of course not but the Scot himself, not one for these comparisons has told us it's one of, if not the, best squad he's had. Upfront the 'Red Devils' possess one of the best strikers in the world in Robin Van Persie and probably the best strike force as he is partnered by Wayne Rooney, Javier Hernandez and Danny Welbeck. Within the ranks are also some of the best young talent in the game, some of them even English, in the likes of David de Gea, Phil Jones and Rafael. Add this with the experienced perennial winners in the shape of Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, Rio Ferdinand, Nemanja Vidic and Michael Carrick and you have an almost perfectly formed squad, the likes of which not even Sir Alex's long reign can previously boast.

Is the rest of the league that bad? No! The Premier League's 'demise' is greatly exaggerated despite any representation in the last four of the Champions League. For one all 4 sides went out in very different circumstances and three of the four went out to at least one, if not two in City's case, of the semi-finalists. Three English teams did make it into the Europa League and Chelsea, still reigning Champions League winners for now, are still there. A sign of improvement is not usually found at the top anyway, it is normally in the middle and lower skilled where the gap closes. Take cricket as an example, no batsmen will ever be better than the great Sir Donald Bradman but the worst of this era's batsmen are far superior to the bygone age of the 'rabbit' coming in at 11. Taking this example we can see that the middle to lower sides have certainly closed the gap to the likes of Liverpool and Everton.

United's dominance is laughably being used as proof that they only won the league because everyone else is rubbish, meanwhile in Germany Bayern Munich won the title by 20 points and people are saying they are the best team in Europe in the best league in the world because of this.

This United team does not inspire and destroy like the Treble winning side of 1998/99 or even the Double winners of 2007/08 but it is a juggernaut of a squad who do not give up ever. They have ground out the title in a spectacular way and they have done it as a brilliant squad.

This title does not belong to the sides below being rubbish it belongs, simply, to the best!


Officially You Don't Know Your Job

Officiating in a game of football cannot be easy, I've never had to do it but that's only because the team Sporting JLGB were due to face when we had no referee assigned that day did not turn up- I was very relieved.

On some occasions referees and their assistants get a harder time than they deserve. Many occasions I have felt sorry for a 4th official, powerless to do anything but taking abuse from both manager's in the dugout on behalf of the 'ref'.

Of course officials do not help themselves. There is always terrible decisions to pour over, and I often do. I have been known to abuse 'refs' as much as the next Sunday League player/coach/manager/secretary/fan. Officials making mistakes, after the heat of the moment, is acceptable.

What is not acceptable is them not knowing their job. On Tuesday night Bayern Munich played Barcelona in the Champions League Semi-Final 1st Leg. Munich ran out comfortable 4-0 winners.

Bayern's second goal may have been offside, it was a close call. The assistant referee did not flag. In part this was because he did not believe Mario Gomez was offside but partially this was because Arjen Robben was stood in his way. Both ref and assistant did their job correctly. My issue comes with official number five, or six I'm not sure. The 5th official, the man stood by the goal, clearly thought Gomez was offside. His first reaction, like that of a striker believing he is offside, was to look at the assistant. When he saw no flag he too decided it mustn't have been offside but that's not his job. The 5th official is essentially just another assistant, his job is to decide his stance, in this case that Gomez was offside, flag for it and allow the ref to weigh up both opinions.

On this occasion the ref would have sided with his assistant ahead of 'number 5' but that's totally besides the point. Until officials know what their role is how can we expect them to do it properly?

Finally F.A is Sweet

Luis Suarez bit another footballer, for the second time in his career!

Just read that sentence, read it several times if something doesn't look quite right, it shouldn't look right. No person should bite another. It, in the worst possible way, is what animals do. It is a disgusting act done by no one with any decency.

Suarez has previous, and not just with biting, and his constant trips to F.A disciplinary hearings, the fact he's a repeat offender and the fact he bit someone has led to him getting a 10 match ban.

Many believe this is harsh and the Football Association has once again got it all wrong. They have pointed to Jermaine Defoe's bite on Javier Mascherano going unpunished but just because it has made once mistake a few years ago this doesn't mean they should compound it by making the same mistake again. Some, including Gus Poyet, say that Suarez is being targeted but perhaps the Uruguayan should stop biting and diving amongst his many other flaws.

For once they've done something and it really is sweet F.A

Bury the Past

My love of football came at a youngish age. I attribute many of my loves in the game, international football, Inter Milan, Barcelona, to the ages of 7-9 as I watched Euro '96, Gazetta Italia on Channel 4 and visited Catalonia within these 2 years of my life.

Of course what stands out by it's absence is my love of Manchester United, if you didn't already know, I couldn't tell you when I became a fan of United I just know it was influenced by my cousins who supported them but there was no memorable moment of inspiration. I did not see my first match at Old Trafford until January 1st 2011 but my first live game came in 1996.

Sometime early in the 1996/97 season I rocked up, an excitable 8 or 9 year old, with my dad at Gigg Lane, home of Bury F.C. Again I can't recall who the first match I saw was against, I have no memory of the scoreline either I just know that even that small ground looked huge to me and walking from the underbelly of the stadium into the stands the 'noise' that hit me was wonderful- I was in love with live football.

Later on that same season I again attended a Bury match, this time though there was a new twist, Bury were on the verge of securing the Second Division (League One) title. Going into the final day of the season the 'Shakers' were level on points with local rivals Stockport, both on 81 points, Bury would have to equal or better Stockport's result. I took my place in the Main Stand and watched as Bury beat Millwall 2-0, meanwhile Stockport drew 0-0 with 3rd place Luton (you'll notice how times have changed). Bury were champions and I watched as they received the title and celebrated promotion to Division One (The Championship).

Fast forward just short of exactly 16 years later and I found myself at Gigg Lane, I've been quite a few times in between, with Bury languishing bottom of League One; already relegated and in deep financial trouble. It saddens me to see the team who I hold so close to my heart in such struggles, especially when Bury are not a team with a large enough fan base to easily turn it around.

Last week, before relegation was confirmed, it was announced by the board that the club needed £1 million by the end of the month. My first reaction was of shock but I then became utterly confused, why did it take the board till termination as a club was one month away before they did anything? This question remains unanswered after the team manager, Kevin Blackwell, was forced to fend for himself in a press conference last week.

Against Scunthorpe the fans, like the players, did not seem to care with the two gents behind me declaring "Who gives a fuck as long as Oldham lose" and, after one had urged his team to at least try his mate answered "why would they try now, they've not all season". 0-1 down at half time the players, inspired by whatever Blackwell said at half time, decided to show they cared in the 2nd half as they turned the result around for a 2-1 victory. The player's celebrated near the fans, the fans cheered and resentment at their own side turned to mockery of Scunthorpe's boss, big time Charlie, Brian Laws.

For now Bury will play out their last two games of the season and hopefully the players can show some fight that will give the fans hope for the future. The painful truth though is that no matter what the players do now there may still be no future for Bury F.C, Gigg Lane and all the fans.

I don't hark back to the good old days, I just pray that my memories of them, and my Bury scarf from back then, aren't the only part of Bury F.C that remains.

Father Than They've Gone Before

Like a lot of people my passion for sport is inherited from my dad. I can still remember being sat on the couch with him to watch England vs South Africa in the 1995 Rugby Union World Cup.

My dad though, believe it or not, is actually a Manchester City fan. When my older brother was born Sidler senior enrolled him as a 'Junior Blue' and of course my brother thanked him for that by having no interest in football. I take it this is what prevented me from also being enrolled, typically it meant I had no connection with City and thus became a red- sorry pa!

Just like me though 'Dad' first fell in love with football away from Maine Road. My dad's first match was at Ninian Park, the previous home of Cardiff City- they wore blue then (see football really does change). Once again fast forwarding and Cardiff find themselves promoted to the Premier League.

Though I don't share my dad's support of City I've always followed the fortunes of Cardiff with a hope they'd one day make it to the top. There are of course many issues after Cardiff sold their soul to get there but right now that doesn't really matter.

Well done Cardiff, it's well deserved. And don't worry I've already asked- if it's City vs City on the last day of the season with one going for the title and the other looking for the title he'll be supporting Manchester... I won't!

Wembley Warriors!

Promotion to the Premier League, as Cardiff will hopefully find out next season, does not automatically make you a Premier League team. For some teams they are back in the Championship before they come close and for others, Stoke perhaps, just as they have finally established themselves relegation comes a calling.

Amongst those who did not feel like a Premier League team on their introduction to England's top tier were Wigan Athletic. A small club, who rose from the 84th best team in England to 10th in just 10 years, they were never going to be well followed.

Coming from a Rugby League town and surrounded by Manchester and Liverpool, along with many other Lancastrian footballing strongholds, Athletic have struggled, even now in the Premier League, to be fashionable. But, after finishing 10th in their first season, Wigan are still in the Premier League 8 years on. They may battle most seasons  just to stay in and once again they could go down but the Latics are well and truly an established Premier League side.

The "Pie Eaters" now have some top quality players, Arouna Kone, Shaun Maloney and Jordi Gomez to name but a few, they play attractive passing football, have an intelligent manager with a strong philosophy and a chairman who genuinely cares about the club and town where the club is from. All of which sounds extremely likeable. However there are many who still look down their noses at the low attendances at the DW Stadium and use this as a reason to suggest Wigan should not be a Premier League team.

Wigan's average attendance is often less than a Championship side but when considering their rapid rise as a team, the history of rugby league in the town and the locality of famously bigger sides than themselves this is unsurprising- they simply grew in stature quicker than they could generate new fans. People criticised the club for underselling their tickets for the FA Cup Semi Final by 10,000 but no trains ran direct to Wigan from London after the final whistle and in a world of recession, expecting fans to travel down to London twice in a month is ludicrous.

The naysayers think Wigan's constant scrapping for survival on the last day suggests they do not belong in the top tier but the league table at the end of the season rarely lies, on top of which did Everton not go through a period of hanging on for dear life to stay up and that when they were a well and truly established side.

When people consider teams they don't support but have a soft spot for the likes of Arsenal, Spurs and Swansea are often mentioned because of their passing style but Wigan are somehow left off this list. In modern football a 3-4-3 might be seen as a risk but that does not stop Roberto Martinez from playing it, and his players have adapted well, unlike the superstars at Manchester City who have failed to welcome Roberto Mancini's 3-5-2 formation.

It is truly amazing how much Wigan's players respect, not only their manager, but also their chairman whom many of them praised at the end of the match against Millwall on Saturday. And it's easy to see in the reaction of both Martinez and Whelan  how much the clubs success means to them- Martinez could barely stop smiling in the post match interview.

When Wigan return to Wembley, home of many rugby league successes for the town, to face Manchester City on May 11th many may turn their affection to Wigan but only because they envy City's success and won't want them winning. The truth is that we should be supporting Wigan because we have a soft spot for them.

Perhaps if Martinez can lead his side to a memorable and improbable FA Cup victory some will consider eating humble pie. And if so, I know a great place to get it from.

Doffing my Baseball Cap and Glasses

It seems the North West of the country is full of football teams easy to dislike; the Manchester clubs- for their success, Wigan- for seemingly no reason, Liverpool- for well, being Liverpool, Blackburn- because of their owners and of course Stoke City. I don't need to tell you why, you already hate them.

Tony Pulis' men go against all that we are told is the 'right way' to play football in this day and age. Barcelona are potentially the best team to ever play football as Stoke are the polar opposite it's fair to assume they are the worst.

After Stoke lost to Manchester United it seems that 'The Potters' are really staring down the barrel of relegation. The manager, Pulis, seems to be on the way out and many are glad. Pulis' style, or lack thereof, is pretty much to have his team hoof the ball  up to a tall striker and hope to cause havoc- it wins him few fans.

When Pulis leaves Stoke, and I believe he should whether his team stay up or not, he should actually be fondly remembered. He has done wonders to turn the team into an established Premier League side, has taken them to an FA Cup final, delivered European football and delivered players with reputations far beyond logical thinking.

Pulis, and his uncompromising style, demand our respect, not derision. I will doff my baseball cap and lift my glasses- relegation or not.

The Curious Case of Wayne Rooney

I still remember the ball being brought down by his right foot, the swivel on the ball, he shaped up to hit the shot and then, with the brilliance of a world class striker, he hit it. It looped over England's best centre back who could only look on in amazement as the ball struck the underside of the cross bar to beat England's number 1 'keeper'. 

This was of course Wayne Rooney, at 16, scoring a wonder goal from 30 yards out against David Seaman to stop Arsenal going 31 games unbeaten in the league. It was his first senior goal. I remember it so vividly, I can even remember the conversation about it the next morning at the Heaton Park football pitches before King David F.C took on South Manchester. And of course I remember the commentary.


Fast forward to modern day, Monday night to be precise, and the exciting youngster who defeated the then champions of England looked more like a washed up, out of shape and rubbish player- ironically against the now champions of England as Manchester United lost the Manchester derby to City. 

Rooney was not the only 'Red Devil' who looked below par but he was the most worrying. The ex-Evertonian is not exactly having an awful season, after all he has 12 goals and 9 assists for United in just 22 games whilst this year alone he has scored in all 3 of England's internationals. All in all it is a fantastic return for the 27 year old however what worries is how he plays when first coming back from injury and, most importantly, how often he's been injured.

Sir Alex Ferguson has gone on record on a couple of occasions this season about United's number 10 and his fitness; "Wayne is a boy that needs games, you can see that from the frame he’s got." said the Scot. And even more recently he repeated the idea "He's missed bits of games and I think Wayne is the type of player who can't miss games." In essence the United manager is saying that Rooney can't afford to miss games because it takes him several games to get back up to any decent level. 

Too often this season, Real Madrid, Chelsea and City at least, Rooney has been injured in the build up to big matches. He wasn't risked against either Madrid or Chelsea but, with United's recent performances being under par, 'Wazza' was thrown in from the start in the derby. 

That putting Rooney in from the start in the derby can be viewed as a gamble should be preposterous he is still, after all,  United's talisman despite Robin van Persie's added brilliance. Yes most player's might lose a step or two after a week out but Rooney looks unable to perform until 3 games after a 'come back'. 

I don't yet think the 'boy' from Croxteth should be moved on, nor do I think he will be, but something seriously needs to be done- either stop him getting injured or find a way of getting him back to his best quicker. Remember the name- because the brilliance may start to fade.


Curiosity Kills the Kag

I remember a lot. It doesn't help because it's never useful things. But I remember watching as City destroyed United 6-1 at Old Trafford. It was only last season, of course I remember.

On that day City were almost unstoppable, especially after 'The Reds' continued attacking at 3-1 down. After the match pundits poured over the game and everyone came to the conclusion that the biggest difference between the two sides was David Silva. The small but hugely talented attacking midfielder got in the gap between United's defence and midfield and ran the show with brilliant off the ball running and excellent passing. His creativity is what United lacked, not only in that match but also for the season.

With City going on to win the league United looked to find that spark of inspiration and, with the season barely over, they announced that Borussia Dortmund's own attacking midfielder, Shinji Kagawa, would be joining. The Japanese player was named Bundesliga "Player of the Season" in Dortmund's title win. 

Players often struggle in their first season in the Premier League but, despite a slowish start, Kagawa has shown himself to be an extremely promising signing- especially with his hat-trick vs. Norwich in March. With this in mind and Rooney's inability to come back from injury it seemed ridiculous that the man from Kobe wouldn't start. 'Kag' didn't even get onto the pitch till the 92nd minute when Ashley Young went off injured.

United will go onto win the title, not because of their small but hugely talented attacking midfielder but because of Robin van Persie. Next season City will look to sign their own RvP, perhaps United can just find room for their own world class attacking midfielder.