Youth, Courage, Greatness

There’s a Turkish club whose name doesn’t come up very often, except in Champions League qualifying draws. Galatasaray don’t exactly make for famous opponents. But one night in 1994, a Manchester United-Galatasaray game set the tone of the Red Devils for the next twenty years.

Ryan Giggs by then had established himself as a first-team member, but it was the rest of the teenagers who burst onto the scene that night. Watch the grainy video footage on youtube. Beckham, Gary Neville and Nicky Butt played the whole match, each of them only nineteen. Paul Scholes graced the bench. The game was but a taster of the magic, eleven premier league titles and two champions league titles that were to come.

In the excellent Class of 92, Gary Neville is sceptical that history will repeat itself. Truth be told, the statistics today do not spell good things for youth systems in England. United’s famous class each made more than 10 appearances in the treble-winning season of ’99; the average number of under-23s in squads nowadays are 2.5. Clubs like United are supposedly ‘abandoning their youth systems’; clubs like Manchester City never really had them in the first place. The opportunities for academy talent look increasingly limited as clubs instead go in search of famous names, too impatient to grow their own.

Is it all gloom and doom, however? I do think that youth still has a chance, despite whatever Arsene Wenger and Jose Mourinho have been saying lately. I’m writing from a Manchester United point of view since that’s what I’m most familiar with, but it’s easy to see that this club, and probably all other clubs in England, are not giving up on young players just yet.

First of all, as is with everything in English football, I think that the problem is exaggerated. Be it by newspapers, managers, or whoever else there is who has a say on these things, it’s not like youth football is on the road to a complete stop. Just look at the pre-season squad that United fielded in the States. Seven of eleven players who finished the first three games were academy players. And that third game was a 3-1 defeat of Barcelona, with the youngsters scoring two goals. That doesn’t sound like a club giving up on its youth principles. Although Paddy McNair and Tyler Blackett were brought in to cover the ravaging injuries that plagued United throughout last season, they continued to rack up games in front of more senior defenders. Hopefully the trend of introducing youngsters will continue well into the future. Players coming into the team at different points in time doesn’t mean that players aren’t coming in at all.

Secondly, so many caveats of what being a youth player means are forgotten. Maybe Luke Shaw was bought from Southampton, but he’s still only nineteen, and I’d still consider him one of our young talents. Buying all of these players means that these players still have to come from somewhere, and Southampton is the glowing frontman of the academies of England – what England needs to do is make sure that it does not become the exception. Also, I think players are written off far too quickly. While Januzaj didn’t play as much under van Gaal, he still managed 21 appearances, and let’s not forget his stellar showing under Moyes. People forget he’s only twenty and has a long way to go and play. David Beckham, after all, had a loan spell with Preston North End before he established himself as United’s first choice.

The fairy tale of the Class of ’92 in this way has affected how youth is viewed in the premier league – people forget the hard truths, the Aston Villa defeat, the reality of ‘you can’t win anything with kids’, and how these things take time to happen. They expect results instantly, and from there draw false conclusions. No one knew Ryan Wilson was going to be such a phenomenal superstar until it happened, and likewise, you can’t tell what the future is going to be for some of these young players. Paul Scholes turned professional in 1993 and didn’t get his first game until 1994. Is Sir Alex Ferguson going to be criticised for abandoning youth by not playing him sooner? Not really, no. Because Sir Alex trusted in and believed in them, biding his time till he thought they were ready and allowing them to grow into the role. That’s the difference with football then and now, and that’s why it looks like academy players aren’t trusted anymore. Teenagers are treated as superstars and everyone is expected to do amazingly overnight. And if you think like that, expecting the result before the effort, then of course you’re not going to see what you want to see.

Youth is not dying. Getting harder to define and smaller in reach, perhaps. And it’s true that we’ll probably never see a huge bunch of players coming into the first team of a big club ever again. But this doesn’t mean that big clubs aren’t introducing players, or even that smaller clubs aren’t overhauling their squads with younger, fresher faces. Look at United signing Sadiq El Fitouri from Salford City – that’s believing in youth, it’s just that deals such as this go under the radar given that they’re playing with U21s. Manchester City has invested in a major youth complex – that’s investing in youth, given that they use it properly.

And that’s the crux – the onus is on the teams to make use of what they have and bring players in not quickly, but eventually. There is plenty of talent out there to be found, even if it might not seem like it. No one knew, looking at that bunch of boys, that three would make club Captains, one national Captain, only the characters of the other two stopping them from doing so too. The most important thing is not to expect immediate results, but to keep looking. Who knows? There just might be another Ryan Giggs out there, waiting in the wings.

It Takes Three (Points)

Another game, another slim margin, another tired display. Only the most optimistic of Manchester United supporters would argue that the game against Aston Villa was a palatable display of brilliant football. Sloppy passing, fading forces and questionable decisions led to, at best, an unmemorable day. People have been complaining about the state of football that plagues the Red Devils. However, three points is still three points, and here’s why it’s not all doom and gloom – scrappy wins nevertheless have their purpose and place.

The most important thing is that we have six points from two games. That’s five more than we had this time last season, and that in itself is a marked improvement. Not necessarily in how United are playing, but in cold, hard-hearted statistical terms. Yes, football is a spectacle, and of course everybody wants to see their team play beautiful, flowing passes, and score mind-blowingly brilliant goals. But if flair and style were all that mattered then Arsenal would have long ended their title drought. More than anything football is a game of numbers – we see that proved to us every day with sites like Opta and Squawka, with punditry like Monday Night Football, breaking things down into percentages and niggly details. And points are that which matter in the quest for the title. I’m not saying that United fans should be happy with how the team played – far from it. What I’m saying is that no one has to be happy with how they played or how the game was won, but be happy that the game was in fact won in the first place. Playing beautifully and losing would have been far, far worse.

It’s not even that all hope is lost – although it was by no means a dazzling display, there were individual flashes of brilliance and the full backs were certainly players to watch. I feel like the reason people are getting so worked up over our lack of flair is because they’re comparing it to the image that United has built up for itself over the past twenty years, even though it might not necessarily ring true. As with all long runs of success, people begin to have particular memories of Sir Alex Ferguson’s era – the flashness of Ryan Giggs’s FA Cup semi-final goal, the gorgeous steamrollering of Ipswich (9-0) or even Arsenal (8-2). And it’s true – we did play a lot nicer in the old days. We were far more creative, dominant, all round magical to watch. But there are two things you have to remember in order to put these memories aside. The first is that, simply speaking, the calibre of players has changed. Not only do we not have Cantona in our side anymore, opponents such as Manchester City have added much firepower since they were last relegated in (as recently as) 2001. It’s simply not as easy to dominate in a much more evened out landscape, the acumen of signing players notwithstanding.

The second thing you have to remember is that Alex Ferguson’s sides were never flash first thing. Matt Busby, perhaps, concentrated on free-flowing, attacking football, but I feel that Ferguson’s sides concentrated on winning first, style second. It’s just that we were lucky to see so much style flourish during his time (and he never did anything to stymie it, for which we must also be grateful). People forget how scrappy the Bayern Munich-Manchester United final of 1999 actually was in favour of the last three minutes. Gone are the memories of the 95/96 title, which was won by a string of Cantona 1-0 wins. United has never been afraid to get scrappy when it’s necessary, and that is an important attribute of any title-winning side. It is the win that counts. It has always been the win that counts.

In fact, wins are even more important for this team because of how easily rattled their confidence is. We’ve seen this time and again; a winning streak will turn into a losing one because they cannot sustain a mentality that allows them to grind out results. The moment they lose, they collapse. This string of results is imperative, therefore, in restoring the shaken confidence (in large part introduced by Moyes). Manchester United need to get it into their heads that they can play badly and still win. The moment they restore that perpetual comeback mentality, then much of the road from here on out is eased. Perhaps the lack of confidence comes from the trophy drought (if two years can be considered a drought) – and, of course, it brings us back to the original method of winning trophies. Points.

Playing pretty will come in time. No one can or has the right to expect for our new signings to bed in easily, for a team that is almost completely overhauled to gel immediately. To play with a connection and flow you need to know and understand each other, and understanding comes with time. One of the reasons why Ferguson’s sides were so successful was because at the core of that team were players who’d known each other for years, and who throughout the 90s and early 00s proved that relationship on the pitch. Gary Neville always knew what David Beckham wanted. Paul Scholes would place balls within an inch of where Ryan Giggs was. You can’t expect players from what, four different leagues to have that fantastic a relationship from the start.

I’ve said before that big premier league teams always get stick for doing what mid-table teams are praised for: grinding out results. People should acknowledge that this is no mean feat, and it’s a hugely valuable asset that has time and time again been important in helping to win trophies. There is no shame in winning scrappily. There is a huge difference, however, between this and winning dirtily, and I think that’s what trips a lot of people up. Digging your heels in and not giving up is not something to be ashamed of. Playing ugly is different from playing dirty, and I consider it a true show of (as Brendan Rodgers would delightedly say) character and mental fortitude to do the former.

Yes, of course we need to improve. Yes, of course we need to guarantee wins. Yes, I miss our 3-0, 4-0, 5-0 games when we were simply in complete control. Who doesn’t? But there are so many factors and so much instability in the squad right now that we can’t possibly expect anything of the sort soon. We’ve got new players, we’ve got a new manager. The Fergie era is over and anyone who hopes for a return is only kidding themselves. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be playing prettily, only that it shouldn’t be our number one priority. I’m not saying that some things really, really need to be relooked, only that we should not let this get us entirely down. I’d rather have six points from two games and questions to be answered than two points from six games and still questions to be answered. Hopefully one day this team will be playing beautiful football the Louis van Gaal way. But for now what is the most important is for Manchester United to set its sights on what it’s always been good at doing, whether gorgeous or ugly. Win.

The Devils and the Saints

Let me introduce you to one of the saddest videos I’ve ever seen. It starts off as a press conference. Iker Casillas speaks a language you might not understand, on behalf of a team you might not support. Over the course of two minutes, it is stripped – of formalities, of rivalry, of audience, of money – until you are left with a man, a cracked voice, a broken heart.

Twenty five years ago Casillas arrived at the Santiago Bernabeu, held up a scarf, took a picture. San Iker, the fans call him, Saint Iker, and he matched their devotion with his own. There are few men of his ilk in the football landscape today. In English football it would probably be Ryan Giggs with Manchester United. To think of them requires thinking of the shirt that they wore, and vice versa. But whereas Giggs was applauded off the pitch, seventy five thousand fans chanting his name, Casillas faced an empty stadium for his final goodbye. No teammates. No club officials. Only a piece of paper upon which he thanked, ironically, the ‘great institution’ that had turned his back on him. Real Madrid unfollowed him on social media less than a day after the conference, as if he wasn’t Real Madrid himself, but some half useful player who should consider himself lucky to say ‘I played for Madrid once’.

Therein lies the black mark on the erstwhile fairy tale. Retiring players leave on their own terms, even transferring players get wonderful send-offs, but Casillas is being barred even that honour. Watch the conference again, and again, if you must. That is not the picture of a man who wants to leave. Perhaps his performances of late have declined, but 725 senior games, five league titles, three champions leagues, and the Captain’s armband tell you he has more than earned his right to go when he chooses. Except he has been stripped of this, is instead given acrimony and a room of half-hearted reporters clapping because there is no one else to do so.

This is not the way it should be. No fan should have to watch their legend be pushed out of their club like a crumpled piece of paper tossed into a bin. By doing that Perez has taken away the very meaning of sport, is destroying the very idea of football. People lament the scarcity of one-club men these days, yet here he is making sure they remain scarce. And ruining other clubs in the process, taking their best players and putting them on his pretty bench. Iker Casillas Leaves Real Madrid, go the headlines, but they might as well have read Football Is Dying. Agents hold ransom, players demand exorbitance, fans turn, teams encourage disrespect.

But maybe Saint Iker will save us once again. Because, even as he leaves, he reminds us what it means to be a footballer. What it means to play. ‘Wherever I go,’ he says in the end, ‘I will keep shouting “¡Hala Madrid!”’ Even as he boards a plane to Portugal, he remains: ‘I won’t say goodbye because we shall meet here again soon.’

That is sport, whether you shout Hala Madrid, or Glory Glory Man United, or Mia San Mia. Only sport can make you cry like that, and it’s both terrible and beautiful, and we must remember why. It’s a hundred raw emotions that fill you with an infinite sense of being and belonging. It’s love, sheer unconditional unadulterated love for your team no matter what they do to you. It’s a little boy twenty five years ago, looking up at the shadow of the Santiago Bernabeu, thinking to himself, one day I will wear the number one shirt. One day all my dreams will come true.

Hello, Hello, Hey!

Five reasons why we should, as Louis van Gaal so eloquently puts it, ‘pay attention to the manager’.

It’s been just over a year since the pain also known as David Moyes left United, and yet aspiring to be City couldn’t be further from anyone’s minds (especially because aspiring to be a team you’ve beaten 4-2 seems even more ridiculous). A large part of this is due to the man from Oranje, whose philosophising and drunken antics have largely erased the ink blots of his predecessor.

A lot of post-season will unnecessarily, but nevertheless, be spent in reflection on whether 2014/15 was a success for Manchester United, and whether van Gaal has done a good job. In honour of this mass hysteria, here are five reasons why I think our man with the (self professed) Golden Balls has not only succeeded, but has to stay at the very least until the end of his contract.

He’s entertaining. A part of Sir Alex that many people seem to forget is how much of a character he was. The incomprehensible Scottish brogue, ‘squeaky bum time’ catchphrases and love affair with watches all made him someone impossible to ignore, the way most people could tune out Moyes. Van Gaal is someone in the same mould. There’s never a dull moment: someone who dares to slap Ryan Giggs rarely has any. His quotes include the tribute-like ‘twitchy ass’, ‘Queens Park Raisins’ and the childish delight of ‘we have only one player injured…can you believe that?’ My personal favourite is when he interrupted Gary Neville on live TV to congratulate ‘his team’ after the Liverpool win, demonstrating both his…quirkiness, and commitment to the club. And of course, his plaudit winning end of season awards speech should have had an entirely new Oscar category for it.

He’s got balls. How many managers you know would bench the most expensive players if he felt they weren’t performing? And how many managers would have a penalty kick system so rigid that even the most preeminent choices would be dropped if they didn’t deliver? Whatever else can be said about him, Louis van Gaal is a man unafraid of sticking to his own mind and choices. His philosophy is the stuff of legend. Stubbornness has its drawbacks, and for a while I was afraid van Gaal would be too stubborn and refuse to adapt, but he managed to prove me wrong. It took a while for him to realise just how useless 3-5-2 was, but once he got that down, he was smart enough to make the transition of ‘philosophy’ go almost unnoticed. We ended up with a few good runs and van Gaal ended up with his stubbornness still intact. It’s a refreshing change from the dithering Moyes who seemed to go with whoever was the loudest counsel at the time.

(One thing I’ll add, however, is that the drawback to this that he still hasn’t fixed is his incomprehensible need to play players in the wrong positions. Hopefully that will be fixed by next season – we don’t need to see another woeful Rooney display from midfield.)

He delivers. No one’s going to forget 3-0 / 2-1 Liverpool, 4-2 City, or 3-0 a Harry Kane-led Spurs in a hurry. These were exceptional results topped with a cherry – the revitalising of players previously considered surplus, namely Ashley Young and Marouane Fellaini. Van Gaal has to take credit for these remarkable turnarounds (even though the same, sadly, cannot be said about Jonny Evans). He promised he would get us into fourth place, and that he has done entirely. There were even a couple of scrappy, last-minute win games reminiscent of the Ferguson era. Of course there’ve been let-downs (games against Leicester and Everton that will go unmentioned). But there are shocks and disappointments every season, and I think the sentiment is admirably summed up in this MUFC facebook post.

He doesn’t settle. The difference between us and Arsenal is this: fourth place is not a trophy. The fans know that, the players know that, and he knows that. There were some accusations of ‘overcelebrating’ (remind you of any point of the season?) but people associated with United know far better – absolutely no one is satisfied. The aim of fourth place was Champions League qualification, and a setting-back onto the path of proper glory. Van Gaal’s real aim is to win the league, as well as other things, during his time here. And you can be sure we’ll be listening to an English version of the victory speech very soon.

We have to. Manchester United are a club known for its two longest-serving managers. Granted, the in-between years are not a similar story, but between them Sir Matt Busby and Sir Alex Ferguson handled an astonishing 50 of United’s 112 years (137 if you count Newton Heath). Even the shorter-term managers are long staying compared to the lifespan of many a Premier League chief. To sack van Gaal for no brazenly clear reason, and coming on the tail of an already mishandled discharge, would be ridiculous. Even if you don’t like van Gaal, he’s been more than adequate. Who knows what next season might bring? Take the words of Sir Alex to heart: your job is to stand by your new manager. The manager will do his job – we will do ours.

A Savage Pronouncement

Let’s be honest. How many people actually take Robbie Pundit Savage seriously? Probably less than the number of main cast members who would survive an Oscar-bait behind-enemy-lines war movie. Certainly he’s one of those people with opinions not worth getting riled up about, but recently he’s said something about United that I do take issue with. Apparently, he’s up in arms over the fact that Manchester United thinks getting fourth place is a job done, Louis van Gaal thinks that United are close to catching Chelsea, and some fans are celebrating as if United have won the league.

Hang on just a minute, Robbie. Here is Paul Scholes to demonstrate exactly what i think of that.

The overcelebration issue seems to come up an awful lot in this season (I don’t suppose anyone has yet forgotten Robin van Persie’s against Chelsea). I agree – fourth place should not be celebrated like a league title. Yet there is a major problem with this assessment of Savage’s: United did not. Perhaps individual fans did, but I personally know of no one who saw this as a massive achievement on the level of 2013 or any of the nineteen previous titles. There were no dressing room pictures, no wild popping bottles of champagne, no declarations of ‘we see fourth place as a trophy’ – those belong to a certain London club which for the facade of impartiality will not be named.

Have a look at any of the interviews with any of the players post-game and post-season. No one acknowledges that fourth place is the be all and end all. Everyone has acknowledged that fourth place is the minimum requirement van Gaal set out to achieve, no more and no less, and that it’s not good enough for a club like United. “Carrick: We want titles not fourth place.” “Blind: Manchester United will always aim to win the title.” “Mata: we’ll be trying to win trophies.” I don’t know where Savage got the idea that United are satisfied with fourth from, because we aren’t. Fourth is simply the stepping stone towards better and greater things, a repetition of 2008 and 1999 being written in the cards.

There is nothing wrong with celebrating fourth place as fourth place, which is what I think United fans were doing. Any fan of any club would be happy when they see their team make it into arguably the most prestigious club competition in the world. You can’t deny people the right to celebrate such an achievement, particularly with such a precarious run-in at the end, as well as on the back of a terrible season much of Manchester would rather forget. But when posts like ‘we’re back, bitches’ began peppering social media, the intent was far less ‘we’ve got fourth place, job done’ than ‘this is our chance to be great again’. Second best was not enough for Sir Matt Busby and will not, one suspects, be enough for van Gaal. His ostensible aim this season was to reach the Champions’ League, but not once did he say that this was his only aim – in fact he’s probably taken a shot at the title more than fourth place in his many entertaining press conferences. This is not about settling for less.

A huge part of the ‘celebration’ was a sigh of relief in knowing that, for all the final table, United seriously underperformed. Here, Savage gets the second part of his argument – that United are still miles away from getting anywhere near the title. It’s in this area that he has more ground to argue. The most expensive transfer window in British history, a splendid array of attacking talent at least on paper, a more than capable manager, resulted in a limp finish through a mix of ridiculous injury, questionable formations and misfiring players. There are certainly very many kinks to be worked out, amongst them how to play against teams which park the bus, as demonstrated so ably by Chelsea and West Brom towards the end of the season, and how to win convincingly (indeed why United cannot seem to win) against teams they should be thrashing. The very lineup of United’s best side seems to be constantly called into question, although the scope of rotation that the Champions’ League would allow soothes this thorn a little. Consistency was a hallmark of this season’s champions and it is something that van Gaal has yet to find.

For all these questions, however, I would say that van Gaal and United have actually had a very solid season and are well within reach of Chelsea, with the addition of some good players shoring up areas in desperate need of replacement (hello, Evans). The window of Tottenham-Liverpool-City was an enlightened look at the possibility of this United side, the performance at Anfield in the first half hour particularly lauded far and wide. It is evident that this United has bags of class and is perfectly capable of beating big teams. If they’d played more like that throughout the season, and not choked up at stupid times like against West Brom, Everton and across the holiday period, second place would have been theirs easily. The loss of Carrick after the derby was particularly damaging and a blow from which they never really seemed to recover. Imagine, though, a fully recovered Carrick at the heart of a ticking, clockwork United beefed up by some world class signings, beginning with Depay. A weak end to the season, almost certainly. But miles away? I wouldn’t say so.

Savage, then, is quite wrong on United’s position, and spectacularly wrong on United’s determination. Questions have been asked as to whether Chelsea can emulate the United of Ferguson’s era and go on to dominate for twenty years, but I doubt it – other teams are far too close, United included, and I quite fancy the chances of being treated to a Player of the Year awards 2.0 van Gaal Victory Speech soon enough. What I find the most offensive is Savage’s suggestion that United have rolled over and are fanatically celebrating fourth place. As a former United player you’d think Savage would know better – this club has always been and will always be about winning. There is a sense of acceptance around the 14/15 season, but not of satisfaction. Fourth place will never be enough – and rightly so.

A Study in Elevenses

I hate it when people ask the question “if you had to choose your all-time starting XI, who would they be?” Whenever you watch videos of people asking football stars that, you can usually see, or at least imagine, the same reaction – a sharp intake of breath, a teeth-gnashing ‘I don’t know’, and a worried sigh. Likewise when you ask a fan. After we watched Peter Schmeichel choose his first eleven, my friend asked me, and prompted an intense flurry of pen on paper, arrows poking around formations, and a dozen different tabs all in some variation of “Manchester United best eleven”. As a one-club supporter I already had too many answers to be considered; I can’t imagine what it’s like for someone who follows multiple clubs across multiple eras.

It’s a ridiculous question because there are always different things to consider. First of all, obviously, you have talent – something already questionable in and of itself. Secondly, you’ve got to factor in how they play together in a team. There are things like a player’s personality, how they’d do against different teams, players across eras and styles of play (how do you reconcile Matt Busby’s five-forward system with present-day formations?). And, of course, choosing from one team like United is bad enough – choosing if you’ve got more than one team must be an absolute nightmare.

I’ve spent a long time thinking about it and I’ve come up with six formations based on different things – believe me, I spent much more time doing this than I should’ve had, and twenty tabs of “Manchester United’s best XI” is evidence of that – and I just thought it’d be an interesting study to think of what my favourite starting elevens are. And also that it’d be pretty damn useful in case anyone ever asks me this question again.

1. Talent

As I said, talent is such a subjective term: you just have to consider the endless Ronaldo-Messi debate. But I suppose these are the players who strike me as the most talented and at the top of their game when they were playing. Look at Schmeichel – an absolute beast in the goal, the sort of player you’d have in your five-a-side because he’s almost an outfield player. No one can argue with Roger Byrne and Duncan Edwards, widely considered to be two of the best English talents anyone had ever seen, until the tragic events of Munich. Stam must be the only player Alex Ferguson regrets selling, which means he must be kind of decent, mustn’t he? I wouldn’t say Gary Neville is the most talented, but he’s the best right-back I can think of. Bobby Charlton is an absolutely amazing icon and Paul Scholes is his favourite player. No one can argue with the magic that Ryan Giggs, George Best and Cristiano Ronaldo bring to the fore, and Cantona of course was simply alarming and astounding.

2. Partnerships 

The thing about football is that it’s not an individual game, but a team one, and some teams are made because of the connection that different players have with each other. There’s no way you can split up Yorke and Cole, who were the most fearsome strike force in their day. Vidic and Ferdinand are of course obvious choices (their partnership cuts Bruce’s and Pallister’s to shreds, surprisingly). Roy Keane and Paul Scholes worked in perfect tandem, yin and yang, while David Beckham and Gary Neville forged a wonderful overlapping-run partnership. Although there’s no real ‘connection’ the way the others work, Irwin and Giggs I feel could probably play with everyone, as could van der Sar.

For a pre-Premier League XI, it’s difficult not to include a lot of the Busby Babes. The statue of Best, Law and Charlton that stands in front of Old Trafford speaks more than enough for their claim to fame. Edwards was simply phenomenal, and I think I would have liked Byrne a lot had I had the chance to get to know him. Both Stepney and Foulkes also came out from Munich stronger and better than ever. I’ve heard Buchan was really solid, as were Crerand and Stiles, although there’s always Whiteside and Colman. Cafu played for ages for Brazil, and that’s top notch.

Of course the Premier League XI sees familiar names – I’ll skim over the new trinity of Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Gary Neville because they feature in pretty much all of my dream teams – but a side like this I think would be amazing, packing punch with consistency, solidity with finesse, and even a flash of the flamboyant in Cantona. Just hope that he doesn’t go around kicking people.

*SHAMELESS FAVOURITISM* The first thing you’ll probably notice is that all 6 of the class of ’92 feature here, something I will not apologise for. This is after all my biased players list. I love every single character that’s on this pitch, from the nervous Nevilles to the unstoppable Beckham, the happy go lucky Butty, Giggsy of course amazing, Scholesy one of my two most favourites; I’ve been lucky enough to meet Schmeichel and Pallister, and they were both really nice. O’Shea also strikes me as an excellent person, plus he played goalie once! Solskjaer, of course, is sunshine. And while I’ve had problems with Rooney, I believe he is a wonderful character and I think he is someone I would like to believe in.

So what do you have at the end of it? I tried to think of all of these things and put them together into one XI, and this is it. Most of it will be pretty self explanatory, considering what a lineup this is; the three Invincibles, and I’ve switched Ronaldo out because I feel Becks and Gaz line up much better together. While Vidic and Ferdinand are great, one can’t help but remember how Vidic left while Ferdinand was always a bit of a twat (who I love, but twatty nevertheless!). I absolutely love Denis Irwin and I’m so chuffed I’m going to get to see him play the legends game. And finally, replacing Keane with Robson because I am – well – not the fondest of Roy Keane, given his…difficult personality. I feel Robson embodied all the ideals Keane did, but did it with much better attitude and character.

So there you have it – six answers to the age old question. I’ll probably change my mind in the next few years as players like Mata and Herrera settle down and become properly good, but we’ll see. For now, let this serve as a fun mind exercise / vanity project / procrastination tool.

Save Dave

I remember when David de Gea was first starting his career at Manchester United – the press were all over him, as the British press usually is – but United fans didn’t let that get them down. Yes, he made mistakes, but the fans’ trust in him was unwavering, and his performances over the last couple of seasons have both validated and repaid them.  So it brings us to the paradox of 2014/15 – with de Gea heavily linked to a move to Madrid, what should we as United fans expect of him?

The way I see it, there’re two ways to approach this. On the one hand, fans are justified in their anger that their years of faith are being treated like this – playing for United, offered ‘a lot of money’, pretty much guaranteed Champions’ League football and still waffling can get people’s goats. Yes, he’s been exceedingly coy about the whole thing, and even when he posts things on social media after games declaring that he’s ‘a red’, he seems to retract any true commitment to United the next day. But does he, because of such behaviour, deserve to see United fans turning against him and declaring that they’re ‘sick’ of what he’s doing? I don’t think so.

First off, we as fans and outside observers of the game are completely different from them as footballers. While all we have to consider are the interests of our favourite teams, not all footballers are lucky enough to be able to play for their favourite clubs, nor do they sometimes have the luxury of sticking with clubs regardless of salary and so on. He’s got to consider chances of trophies, who he’s playing with, and being closer to his family. And honestly, with a defence like United’s, I can’t blame him for questioning whether he wants to continue playing for a probable un-clean sheet. It’s probably not as simple as ‘I like this club, therefore I’ll stay for this club regardless of any other club who wants me’.

Which leads to my next point: hypocrisy. This isn’t just a de Gea situation, but a football situation in general: you cannot blame a football player for wanting to leave your club when you want other players to leave theirs for yours. Case in point: Mats Hummels. United fans are excited (almost desperate) for him to come, but no one’s particularly interested in Dortmund or blaming him for leaving a club he’s come to be so associated with and Captain of. ‘I feel bad for Dortmund but too bad’ seems to be the general consensus – but it’s exactly the same situation. Even bigger case in point: Robin van Persie. United fans were all over Arsenal ones, calling them ‘bitter’ and ‘sore’ for hating on van Persie, but isn’t this exactly what’s going on right now? I’ve seen some United fans get so ridiculously worked up over de Gea and turning on him, becoming exactly the people they used to deride. (Admittedly, the fact that Arsenal fans are still sore about it might factor into the description, but this is how it all started anyway.) If you were a player for another team, and your dream club came calling, would you think twice about your decision? I’m not saying that Madrid is de Gea’s dream club, but it’s a tempting offer, and if you don’t hate van Persie for doing what he did then you can’t hate de Gea for not even doing anything yet.

Fans shouldn’t be getting impatient with him when he hasn’t got all the variables he needs to make a decision. The fact that he’s taking so long and hasn’t said a word about it indicates that at least he’s giving it serious thought. In fact, fans shouldn’t be getting impatient when even we don’t have all the variables. Rumours are rumours, and although these are strong, we don’t know if it will actually translate into a bid anyway. Nothing is official until it comes from the clubs involved in the deals, and it is probably better for any fan’s mental health if they stayed away from rumours as far as possible. It’s absolutely none of our business, nor do we as fans have any control or bearing on the outcome (unless a player really loves the fans of a particular club an amazing amount, which is unlikely).

Finally, people might accuse de Gea of being selfish and disrespectful for toying around with their feelings so aimlessly, but consider this: he’s already repaid us. Last season the only reason United finished in seventh and not lower was because of his spectacular goalkeeping abilities. This season, he’s saved so many games on his own (Everton and Palace the ones that jump out immediately, but there’s definitely more), and took United into the Champions’ League. I’d say that’s a pretty good means of paying back. At the very least, he’s earned the right to do what he must without United fans getting on his back.

United 0-1 West Brom

I was lucky enough to have won two tickets to the game on Saturday, and it was with high hopes and the familiar swell of pride that I walked into those hallowed red stands. The only thing the ensuing 90 minutes taught me was the answer to that old question “would you rather watch the game from home and have your team win, or watch live and not know the result” – always the win. Always the three points. Because we don’t seem able to do it on our own, so we’re going to need all the divine intervention we can get.

Saturday was a potluck of mishaps, bad luck and an overwhelmingly underwhelming display. The 4-2 derby demolishing was less than a month ago, but it feels an age away from the United I saw. To be fair, the first half wasn’t that bad – there was a complete domination in terms of possession and the team kept on pressing higher, van Persie in particular gunning for goal, to the point that there hung in the air an almost palatable sense that it was coming. Frustrating to watch, yes, but comfortable, in terms of knowing that there could only be one result.

The second half begun with what I can only describe as a scramble akin to families desperately clawing at precious commodities on Black Friday sales. West Brom immediately had two shots on goal and once again only the confidence of de Gea prevented anything from going in. There was absolutely no comfort here – just frustration, just me shouting “COME ON, FOR F-‘S SAKE” until my voice started to crack. The free kick given was accompanied by a sinking feeling and completely justified. And it seems that in the span of just three weeks teams have worked out how to play against this once-dominant United team – wait for a goal, either from mistake / counter attack / set piece – then park the bus. And West Brom did that to the letter.

I don’t usually like to blame the referee, because I believe that first and foremost a team has to accept its failings and take responsibility for its own performance. But it would be impossible to go by without having a word on Anthony Taylor, who was simply appalling and had the stadium chanting “the referee is shite”. I think he missed at least three fouls committed by West Brom on United, most of which would have been free kicks in dangerous positions, and a penalty appeal before the second one was given. Of course, I haven’t seen the TV version and everything was happening real time, so some of the decisions I thought were wrong might have been right, but it still felt like ‘play on’ was being used exclusively at the expense of United.

To give credit where it’s due, West Brom defended well and had an excellent goalkeeper. I think there was a great van Persie – or was it McNair, who was predictably out of position? (I say that with affection) – effort saved brilliantly, and a couple more that would/should have gone in. Still, given the potential of the lineup, I was expecting much, much more from the team. A lot of it had to do with positions, and I will never for the life of me understand why I saw van Persie more behind the halfway line than beyond it. The same could be said for Rooney, while Fellaini was always up in front. Yes, Fellaini’s big and we need him in the box, but surely we should be playing actual strikers in front and midfielders behind? It’s no coincidence our slumps come around when Rooney’s playing midfield and vice versa. I hope that’s something van Gaal sorts out soon.

Central to the game, of course, was the penalty which really should’ve gone in and levelled at least. I understand the mentality behind giving van Persie the penalty – he needs a boost of confidence, needs it fast, and there’s nothing like a penalty to do that. But all the same, if you’re 1-0 down in a game you have to win, this is not a time to be taking gambles for the sake of confidence. It has to go to someone you know will put it in, and Rooney was the man to do it. Instead it means three points slipped, van Persie with even more shattered confidence, and a team reeling from three straight defeats.

United needs to win at least two games from the next three to guarantee fourth spot without bringing Liverpool into consideration, and it’s starting to make me nervous that we might not be able to pull it out of the hat – particularly if Liverpool start grinding out wins and if this bad bounce continues. I mentioned sometime ago that United seem to be a team very dependent on their run of form and confidence, and it’s definitely lacking right now. From the second half onwards, and especially past the goal, there was no sense of being able to come back the way there was against City. Palace away will be difficult, Arsenal in the form they’re in as well. But this is something that we have to do.

A few observations on the sentimental and emotional side. On the day itself Rio Ferdinand made a statement his wife, Rebecca, who’d passed away from cancer. It was sudden and awful – and cancer really is the most awful disease. Before the game even started, chants of Ri-o swept the stadium – old fans, new fans alike – and it sent shivers down my spine, knowing how football bands together like this, to support one of our own (who will always be one of our own). At the fifth minute, everyone – even West Brom fans – stood up and applauded. Just applauded, occasionally chanting his name. I don’t know if he saw it, but that’s not important – what was important was that we showed how life transcended football, and indeed how football brings about a respect and reverence for life. I pretty much cried because of how moving and poignant the display was, and I want to thank United fans for doing that.

As probably everyone knows it was the first return to Old Trafford for Darren Fletcher, who was really one of my favourites and a perennial United crowd favourite as well. He got a rapturous welcome which he deserved, and I was touched that he stayed on at the end of the game – once everyone else had gone off the pitch – to applaud the Stretford End. It was proper respect and love for the fans and the club, and speaks for how much he still cares. Which is more than I can say for a certain someone who shares his initials with Doctor Who, but I’m not going to mention any names. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

United will not go for two seasons without European football. It’s simply not in the club’s DNA. I know I have my doubts, but all the same there is a little part of me inside, a miniscule figure standing somewhere in the left ventricle painted red and waving the United flag. “We’ll never die,” it’s singing. And we won’t. Defeats just mean a wake-up call and something that United must respond to. For now, the fans must rally behind and believe that they will.

The Boxer

The Stamford Bridge result was hard to take, and no  two ways about that. Sitting in a hotel in Düsseldorf, watching the game on and off through shit internet on my phone, I felt desperately hollow at the end of it; because of the end of our winning streak, but even more so because we should have won. (Funnily enough these same four words I used in my post-match review of the last time we met, but there you go – football for you.) I was talking to a friend about the match, and she told me that after the game Wayne Rooney was crying. And that – that was so painful.

Pansy, I hear the accolades flowing in. Sissy. As they did with some bitter Chelsea fans. Wimp. Criticism that, if you think about it, is barely on the level he gets when he plays for England. Week in, week out, Rooney is slaughtered – for his performances, for his transfer requests, for his receding headline and unfortunate resemblance to Shrek. And I don’t think that’s fair. So here it is: I’m going to tell you just why I love Wayne Rooney.

I often refer to Rooney as my problematic fave, and that’s because he is problematic. Compared to other players I admire, like Juan Mata, who must be one of the nicest guys in football, you can insert your choice of colourful expletive here. Someone who’s asked to change clubs not once, but twice, and possibly questioned their manager’s philosophy and intent should probably not be given the Captain’s armband. And it’s true that he has had a horrible attitude in the past, throwing temper tantrums and whatever else – stamping on Ronaldo is one of the highlights. This is a man whose determination, dedication and responsibility can be called into question – until you see him on the pitch. And I think that not only was Captain Rooney the most rational decision, I would say that this is one of the best decisions van Gaal has made thus far.

Just watch any game in the 2014/15 season. Watch how he approaches any altercation with the referee. Calm, firm, not like the shouty-mouthed, hot-headed lad of old. Watch how he leads by example – I think there was an early game where he shouted at a teammate, and that was a bad decision, but no longer. This shift of responsibility has turned him into a proper old hand. Only two players from the 2008 Champions’ League final are left now, Carrick and Rooney, and while the former has never had a problem with this, the latter has finally lived up to that image. Carrick leads to, in a sort of Ryan-Giggs, calm without having to say anything, way, but Rooney’s assertiveness and strength are just what a team needs.

Now that he’s managing his old behavioural problems better, you start to appreciate the side of Rooney that was always there – graft. Not graft as in the Sting, but graft as in sheer, hard work – players like Rooney and Ashley Young are the quintessential British workhorses of old. In every single game, whether he’s been playing well or not, whether he’s playing striker or defensive midfielder, you can never accuse Rooney of not trying. That’s his hallmark – again and again, he tries. Fights on. He’s the one who’s most characteristic of that old Ferguson mentality – playing as if he can win, and will win, never mind the actual score. In the better teams you’re more likely to find players like Mata, Herrera, Oscar, Özil – players typified by their flair, skill, trickery with the ball. Players who sit tight, grit their teeth and ground out a result by working for it are often found in the lower levels of the league, for which they are (rightfully) praised. When you’ve got a player like that in a top-end team, however, it’s not what you expect to see, and teams are criticised for playing like lower-level ones. But all clubs at times need to ground out a result. Sometimes flash and spark is not enough – sometimes you have to play ugly to win – and there is no demon like Rooney.

Sometimes I do miss the old Wazza. The boy who’d fight anyone. He wouldn’t have played in midfield for this long; would have gone up to van Gaal and said “look, this isn’t working. I’m a striker.” Instead, week in week out, he plays where van Gaal wants him to play. No fuss, no questions asked. While bemoaning this situation as a team, you can’t help but admire his fortitude as a person. This is new-look Wazza – a marriage of the old fighting spirit and determination with an understanding and level of responsibility that comes with being senior player/Captain. Rooney understands that he cannot answer back the manager or hand in a transfer request once he’s been placed in this position, so he does not. Instead – and this is what I find most impressive, a combination of all that he’s learnt – he soldiers on. He says, if I’m going to play here, I’m going to play well here. And maybe he won’t eventually, but he tells himself he needs to – that’s why he cried after the game, though it was no fault of his own. The mark of a sportsman is perfection, and Rooney excels at that.

Ultimately, this is a twenty-eight-year-old boy. A lot of people forget how old footballers are, because of the relative ages sports makes you think about. But Wazza is young by normal standards, and the expectations placed on his shoulders is insane. It happens less for United, though there are grudges, of course. With England, the usually hostile English press go almost gleeful with indulgence, delighting in castigating Rooney for any and all of England’s failures. Gerrard’s slip up cost England the World Cup game, but once again badmouthing Rooney seemed the order of the day for failing to deliver, for disappointing a nation, and for all the usual unimaginative stick that comes from criticising for the sake of doing so. But a team is not just one man.

What’s the most amazing thing is that no matter how many times he gets kicked, he’s never out. He ignores his critics. He defies popular perception that he’s not going to be a good Captain, and tries to become a good Captain. People have to learn how to appreciate this guy. He’s a talent far removed from the type we are expecting to see – a Honda to the Lamborghinis, if you would. It’s not going to be able to hit 300km/h if you asked it to, but it’s damn well going to try. There’s passion written all over the dashboard.  Like the titular song, Rooney is cut until he cries out in his anger and his shame I am leaving I am leaving –

but the fighter still remains.

International Break(down)

From the photo you can probably tell what my feelings on international break are. It’s not that I have a vendetta against the concept, per se, and I know that a lot of people enjoy watching these breaks. The biggest events in world football, after all, involve national teams rather than clubs. But – and here’s another clue as to my beef with internationals – guess when those are played?

Yeah. Summer.

The name itself speaks a thousand words – break. This implies a break in proceedings, a break from something that hitherto was working perfectly smoothly. For a week or two, players are yanked from their surroundings, thrown together in a gaggle of people they’ve presumably been playing against,  play a couple of games, then are sent back to play against each other once more. This just really doesn’t sound like a workable situation to me. It’s not like the players derive any additional benefit from working together as a national team for a few days – to gel with a team, to do something coherent, you’ve got to stay together every day for quite a while, and these random short breaks within domestic season don’t offer that. Summer training does, summer tournaments do. This is like studying for your A Levels only on the first Sunday of every month; it just doesn’t really make sense.

In fact, it doesn’t even sound like it’s got much of a purpose. I suppose I would understand if it’s qualifiers and therefore being played with a purpose, but half of the games just seem to be friendlies. That’s nice. You get to play teams you wouldn’t usually get to play. But at the same time, really? You’re going to suspend domestic season and risk injuries just so that you can fly somewhere, be introduced to someone new, shake hands, say “hello”, play 90 minutes, and then fly back? Someone bring Alexander Armstrong and Richard Osman in, I think I’ve found the sporting version of Pointless!

There’s the third reason up there I’ve mentioned – injuries. OK, so maybe friendlies could be useful in the sense of measuring yourself against other teams (although I still don’t agree). But more often than not international breaks become literal, in the sense that there are very many things breaking apart and breaking down. It’s not been bad this particular break – the only injury I can think of is Claudio Marchisio, although it turns out that wasn’t as bad as previously thought, and Chris Smalling, who again seems fit to play this Saturday anyhow. But previous international breaks have seemed like a supernatural being stuck a bunch of football players in maracas and then had a fantabulous musical party having forgotten all about them. Once it opens the maracas again they troop out – hamstring, ankle, so on and so forth. And their domestic season is completely ruined, their club’s probably heavily impacted. This isn’t fair to either them or their teams.

Even if no players are injured, it does take the wind out of the sails of clubs who’ve been having a good run. United, for example, were doing excellently prior to this week – you don’t get much better than dominating Liverpool at Anfield – but now that they’ve been interrupted, I fear for how much momentum will be lost. This isn’t just for teams whose players have been called up – when international break kicks in the whole league stops, so this affects everyone.

The solution? Stop playing internationals in the middle of the season. There’s all summer to do that – there’s more time, more space for the team to gel, more reason to play, less “consequence” if a player gets injured (not that I’m saying players getting injured isn’t horrible – it is, one way or the other, but there’s less repercussions for his career and for his team). You really want a break? Have a kit kat instead.