(@Benglorious)

Brett’s back from Poland so there’s no need to do any words or jokes, cos he’s the best and whatever I write will only embarrass me when compared to his words or jokes.

Prediction: I write some words or jokes and am embarrassed. 0-0 United.

m

 (@tom_mcghee)

I am out having birthday meals please put these words: fuck the haters, one love, peace. Or a good joke about Alan Pardew.

Film Review:

To be announced.

Prediction: No good jokes about Alan Pardew. -6 – -6 United.

m

(@bifurcated_utd)

With the destiny of this season’s Hasthag EPL entirely in our own hands, after shoving City off the edge of a metagorical cliff last week* (*note, I am writing this without seeing the score from their 3-1 defeat of Tottenham yesterday), we have to make sure we don’t drop any points in this game like is so obvs gonna happen.

It will be crime of the Willennium, if West Brom are relegated having sacked Alan “Alan Pardew” Pardew they don’t call him Alan Pardew for nothing. Would have (of) been geno scenes to see him cry himself to death like the Alan Pardew not even Tom and Benno deserve.

Prediction: Alexis Sanchez to agree incremental payments of 3 trillion euros per day, as a gesture of goodwill, with reference to his transfer fee versus value to the team. 0-0 United.

Special Guest PNE Fan Hanna (@Hannamayj)

DIRECTIONS (Assuming no Red has ever been further north than Bolton before) :

Go north up the M6 for 30 miles and exit at the Tickled Trout, or Junction 31 to non-Prestonians (we had a town meeting to decide the naming of all major junctions. Probably. Either way, that’s a thing) and marvel at yet another fallen industrial giant:  Preston.

FACTS:

The last time you came to Deepdale (our theatre of dreams) was a long time before I was born but not long ago enough that it’s legend. 1972. Someone won. Nobody kept count.

Preston (The Lilywhites, PNE, Whites, Invincibles) play the former champions of the world almost exactly one year on from the passing of club leg-end Sir Tom Finney. Go check out “The Splash” statue dedicated to the phantom winger outside the stadium. No really, it’s pretty cool.

No I don’t work for the Preston tourist board but we don’t get many visitors, not even for Europe’s largest bus station…

There’s a disappointing lack of Pom Bears in both the club shop and stadium bars. I’ve had words but they fall on deaf ears. Sorry.

We hate Blackpool.

We will sing ‘Premier League, you’re having a laugh!’ Even if we’re losing.

TEAM:

PNE tend to play a traditional 10 outfield players and one goalkeeper.

Manager Simon Grayson (formally of Leeds United for some old-school, long-winded rivalry, but still a better manager than Sir Alex Ferguson’s sperm) will probably start with a 3-4-1-2 of Stuckmann; Super Tom Clarke, Huntington, Wright; Wiseman, Welsh, Kilkenny, Laird; Super Paul ‘Gally’ Gallagher; Super Kevin Davies, Super Joe(y) Garner.

A return to form for Preston in all February fixtures after a drop in Jan means ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF LIFE but will probably be used by Sky pundits to patronise the shite out of ‘lower-league opposition’.

PREDICTION:

Garner’s gonna score a hat-trick and celebrate with his chicken dance, Gally will get a brace from 2 free-kicks and SKD will either end a player’s career (probably Smalling) or score the world’s worst dink to bring his total career goals tally to 151 or total career red cards to 50,000.

No midfield or defensive play is allowed in League One stadiums.

Garner will be knighted and given freedom of the city of Preston (yes, we’re a city now).

David Moyes will tip up to say ‘hi’ to both of his old clubs before returning to certain sunshine and glory in Spain. Miss you Moyesy. Not you, us.

SUMMARY:

A game of association football in the fifth round of the FA Cup will be played in a 23,400 seater stadium and either a “Giant Killing” will occur and Mark Lawrenson will gush for the next 20 years about THE MAJIK OF THE CUP or the third place team in the Premier League will beat the fourth placed team in League One. Either will get stuffed in the next round. Make U Think.

I only wrote this to annoy McGhee.

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Benno (@Benglorious)

I found out today that the team we’re playing today isn’t even in the same league as United today.  Not gonna lie, my world has been shaken by the revelation that football even exists outside the Premiership League.  Pressed On are the opponents, and United are having to travel an unascertained distance to their stadium, Deed Poll.  They should probably change that.

Mum just told me that the game tonight isn’t part of the Premiership League either, and NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S REAL ANY MORE.  Why can’t it just be the same two teams every week, jumpers for goalposts, next goal wins, “no, you go in goal”, “no goal-hanging”, “let me go in goal now cos I’m knackered”, “that’s a bad hack”, “rush goalie, innit” instead of all this ultra-competitive, eighty games a season, “your team’s the worst”, “no, your team’s the worst”, “yeah, but our strikeman’s the best”, “no, our strikeman’s the best” professional football?  I guess we’ll never know.

Prediction:  Vangle to step it up tonight and stop messing around.  Rooney up top with Falcao and Mata in the hole with support from Herrera and Di Maria.  Once we’re five goals up, then and only then will Fellaini and Wilson come on to give Men Of The Match Mata and Ander a well-earned standing ovation.  1-0 Preston.

Jonny texted me to say he was more than happy to come by and tell me his three favourite things in the whole world.  I told him I was busy:

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Tom (@tom_mcghee)

Remember when Preston stormed off Never Mind the Buzzcocks? Bet they don’t mention that. Narrative. I read Brett’s first.

Hanna thinks Steve Martin is Leslie Nielsen.

Prediction: If the Martin Keown angle plays out, who knows? Twelfty 6 to United, Joey Garner to score 8 goals and inspire the home fans to write, direct and perform their own updated version of Jesus Christ Superstar meets West Side Story. For reasons that are unclear.

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Brett (@bifurcated_mufc)

If there’s one thing this website has taught us over the years, it’s to never trust a team with a very specific geographical, most likely racist, agenda. It’s also taught us that having a chat when you’ve finished your tea doesn’t make you an after-dinner speaker, but it’s still okay to put it on your c.v.

I’ve picked up from my friends at the football writers guild recently that the use of the word narrative, wherever possible, becomes a prominent narrative when providing a season’s narrative and should be used wherever possible, narratively speaking (and it also makes you popular with the laydeez, cos it makes you look all interlectural like), and that that narrative tends to line-up in a classic order, disorder, order restored formation; in fact my journo bros sometimes see ‘order, disorder, order restored’, and whisper “that’s classic narrative” to themselves.  In this particular instance the means of re-ordering the disorder, created by Vangle’s insistance on winning without playing nicely, like the Ferg we don’t deserve, will take the form of exacting revenge for a list of modern day football misdemeanours the length of my arm:

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1. PNE invented David Moyes the manager irl.
2. PNE’s ex-England International Kevin Davies lit a bonfire on the future (T-ClevZ).
3. PNE’s Sylvan Blake has given an online money lending site permission to use his name for their underhand marketing campaign.

I have a very long body, okay. It’s just perspective. It’s a very short list. ‘Length of my arm’. Oh, forgeddit.

The most exciting thing about this game is it’s on the beeb! And that’s exciting cos that means I don’t have to get out of bed at all today, except to stick my foot through the telly when Martin Keown. Actually, might just stick my foot through the telly now to save me having me to get out of bed to do it when the coverage starts, then I really can stay in bed all day like the Nietzsche times Bear Grylls maverick squared you all adore.

Prediction: The stylist who sticks Martin Keown’s head in the tumble dryer before he’s allowed out of his cell to leave it in there for much longer than the usual cos someone has delivered them a brown envelope stuffed full of Bifurcated’s staff tips. Hopefully, they accept, “WTF!! That doesn’t even make any sense … give it up you pricks”, “Punch yourself and your friends in the faces before I do, if I ever find you”, “Actually, just kill yourselves to death”, as suitable bungs. 2-3 United.

Liverpool Rob:

Usually I steer well clear of Brett’s advances around this peculiarity in the football calendar. If he gets hold of me he asks me out on a date to watch the match, because, well, we’re friends and it doesn’t matter who wins (or loses). This year I’m happy to put that theory to the test. I’ll let mum know she may need to buy a new hat.

 Now to the prediction: I usually go with the ref to be Howard Webb and a good controversial decision in favour of the hosts. Game over. However he has already doled out his quota of bad decisions against us for this season. He also has to make a few more headlines to ensure he’s on the bus to Brazil… hence I’m looking at a very red day at Old Trafford. I believe, and you can bet your house on this if you like, that Rooney will be sent off for tattooing a postage stamp onto Skrtel’s forehead, RVP for swinging an elbow album into Toure, De Gea for speaking Pigeon to everyone’s English hero, Putin for a pitch invasion when he sees everyone Russian around, Moyes for not declaring to the I.R. having a twin brother who is also his chauffeur (thanks Brett for that info), Hernandez will be sent on to climb the PeaStalk to rescue the treasure from the sleeping giant… which has just awoken and will happily let the Little Pea take as many trinkets as he likes; it won’t matter in the bigger scheme of things.

Prediction: Man U to record 57% possession.

P.S. I hope Mr Webb is in charge of the match or the above won’t happen, obvs.

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Ben (Benglorious):

One of the oldest rivalries in English football is being hosted at Old Trafford this Sunday.  Liverpool visit the Theatre of Dreams on a nine Premier League game unbeaten run, which has seen them demolish Arsenal, snatch an injury-time victory in a five goal thriller at Fulham and clinically dispatch Southampton in their last league run-out.  They’re winning matches the way you’re supposed to – by scoring more than their opponents – despite the best efforts of their defenders attempting to give the other team a chance.  They may have only kept two clean sheets in those nine matches, but they’ve banged in a quite ridiculous twenty-nine goals to bring them to second in the table; a mere seven points behind leaders Chelsea, but with a game in hand.

With Daniel Sturridge and Luis Suárez spearheading arguably the strongest attack in the whole of the Premier League, United have plenty to fear today.  Our defensive frailties are there for all to see:  Rio Ferdinand and Patrice Evra have both lost that mythical yard of pace; Captain Nemanja Vidić will have his next club, Inter Milan, on his mind; Chris Smalling and Phil Jones haven’t found their best positions yet; Jonny Evans is out injured and Rafael, fan favourite though he may be, can be be a liability in hot-blooded games like today’s event.

CAN YOU IMAGINE IF I ACTUALLY WROTE LIKE THAT FOR EVERY GAME?!?  No, thank you.  If you want serious (read: “boring”) matchday previews, then you’ve come to the wrong place.  Anyone with half a football brain can write stuff like the above: generic, stating the obvious tat, with a few pointless statistics thrown in to make it look like the writer is the Football Knowledge King, Soccerbrain Palace, Statistician Drive, Hipsterton, Football Knowledge Kingdom, HP1 1KK.

“Proper” football writers are ten pennies a dime on the internet, and pretty much regurgitate the same gibberish as the next guy.  Or the previous one.  Or the one writing concurrently to them.  I don’t know.  I’m all about the jokes.  Jooooooooookes.  My colleagues Tom and erm, Mr Bifocal are “writers” in the same vein: we’re the mainline injection of zany crack to Martin Samuel’s hand-warming Lemsip.  Now THAT’S a metaphor.

[That’s not to say that there aren’t some wonderful football writers out there.  If you don’t already, you should definitely check out some of my friends people I’ve met through annoyed on Twitter, particularly Paul Ansorge (@UtdRantcast, 14000+ followers), Paul Gunning (@PaulGunning1, 1500+ followers, most of them bought) and Ivan Evan Ewan Iwan Lehnert (@IwanLehnert, 400+ followers.  Seriously?  That few?  That’s a bigger injustice than the recent Cantona framejob).  Not only are all three terrific writers about all things United, they probably also get paid by the thoroughly respectable websites they wordsling for.  If I had to rank them:  Snog Iwan, marry Paul and avoid Gunning.  He’s the worst.]

Prediction:  Yet more hope and optimism from me this week, particularly in light of our excellent 3-0 defeat of the mighty West Bromwich Albion Football Club last Sunday.  Robin will have calmed down after last week’s shenanigans and put in a season-best performance; Wayne will use all his Everton/United hatred of Liverpool to put in a season-best performance; Shinji will come off the bench to put in a season-best performance and Dave will put in such a season-best performance that Liverpool’s S.A.S. (Pah! As if!) will both leave the pitch crying, begging for their mums.  1-0 Liverpool.

About the author:  Most of my jokes are* funny.

*You thought I was going to put “aren’t”, didn’t you?  Classic misdirection gag.  Told you I was funny.

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Tom (@Tom_McGhee):

Earlier this season – when it was still kinda funny – I suggested that we were entering the Prequel Trilogy of the Star Wars Universe. We all laughed (that’s the royal ‘we’ obvs) and then got on with our lives. Several months on, that light-hearted and off-the-cuff remark has borne an evil fruit. Certainly not the 5-Star healthy fruit we at UETFA use for all our currently non-sponsored competitons; I know you’re reading Nike – this is your chance to get on at the ground floor. World Cup year. If you don’t, Sky will.

Anyway….the tenuous Star Wars analogy I’m persisting with because it’s easier than accepting reality: If Fergie retiring was Chancellor Valorum’s ignoble dismissal, then Moyes arrival is clearly the equivalent of Palpatine’s rise to Chancellor – first game of the season? Nothing’s changed, people are happy, no-one’s aware of the insidious plot (Although I maintain in the film this was stupid because Return of The Jedi has been out for years….), everyone’s slightly nervous but hey, we’ll be fine. Luckily, we can completely ignore Attack of the Clones because a) why wouldn’t you? and b) I don’t think even I could relate the clone wars to United’s season. Moving on to Revenge, this is where it could go either way – either Moyes/Palpatine’s attempt at using his latest apprentice Darth Vader/Rooney – the great white hope who fell from grace to become a soulless jerkoff – will succeed and our brave Jedi Council (RVP/Adnan as Yoda/Obi-Wan respectively) will flee for their lives a la the movie OR Wayne will restore balance to the force and Moyes won’t have to be thrown down a massive shaft. Given Wayne’s new contract, this seems unlikely – he’s more money than man now, fat and evil. On the plus side – for me – this does mean I get to carry this nonsense on into next season with A New Hope. Unlucky losers.

Probably should mention the game. Because of the way I look at the world ie As I wish it to be, I’m going for a 5-0 to United, De Gea making a string of saves so brilliant, Arsenal erect a statue to him straight away. And lastly, when Ben thinks he’s talking to his mum? All me.

Prediction: 7.14pm Achacha Fruit.

Brett:

When I first set up Bifurcated – three years ago – I would sometimes allow myself to dream of this day: when following on from some really enjoyable, varied and entertaining opinions from both sets of fans I would*chokes*

And without Danny. Arsenal should really consider themselves very very very very very very lucky.

Phil ‘Jonesy’ Jones takes a lot of credit from this game, and rightly so – he was really strong, in both midfield and defence (I’m really luke-warming to the idea of him in midfield). Evans too. But also crucial, I think, was the performances of the sometime, somewhat maligned Michael Carrick, Tony and Patrice. All three were on it (whatever it is) from the first touch.

There’s still a decision to be made on whether to allow Kags to play centrally more often. He and Rooney alternated in patches to reasonable effect, which was encouraging, but, I s’pose there’s still no guarantee Rooney won’t make that for us in January. Was that a double negative? I mean’t he might be off, still.

RVP was business-like and Rooney’s form continued. I still think he’s got at least three more gears to shift up, before we kickstart the lauding that was kickstarted weeks ago. I do likes a head’n’shoulder goal. I dunno?

Moyes had mislaid those meaty stabilisers attached to his body props, but has now commenced the discovery of them.

(It’s weird how themes stick. This months is head injuries. I have nothing to say on it. Just observing and sharing thought nuggets.)

For a minute back there, I thought we were going to be treated (for treated read: not at all treated) to front row seats as David Moyes’ private fantasy – of running a team with Rio and Vidic at the heart of the defence, no matter what – played out all over our goal difference for the remainder of the season. Not that I’m not going to miss Vidic desperately dispersing his (and his opponents) limbs about the pitch, or Rio’s #silks, but of all the items Moyes has on his growing to-do-list, our central defence is not one them. Luckily for him, and us, we’re full up with young talented central defenders, primed to be gradually phased into the first team; and luckily for me too ‘cos I don’t have to talk about it. Defence is not my thing.

There are more myths in football than I’ve had hot dinners, oh no, wait – sorry – that’s cliches. Well, anyway, there’s lots of them. There are some garden-variety football fans who take great pleasure in nil all draws (it even sounds wrong) and would have us believe that there is nothing more valuable in the quest for silverware than a solid defence. They argue that there is an actual art to defending and revel in their favourite exponents of the “craft” chucking their faces in the way of stuff. “Defending’s in his blood” I’ve heard said – like it’s in anyone’s nature?! Yuck.

If you were to set up an experiment in a playground by placing a football in the centre circle and asking a group of children of indeterminate age (to the power ‘X’) to start playing, how many of them do you imagine would instantly rush to the edge of the area and shove his, or her arm in the air to appeal for offside as his, or her classmates made their way towards goal? It’s none. The answer is zero. No, they would all, without exception, descend on the ball, kicking air, shins and anything else within their peripheral boundaries in an attempt to take some sort of control.  Without the budget or relevant paperwork to undertake this trial, you’ll have to just take my word for it that the only conclusion we can draw is that there is no such thing as a natural defender.  If, as part of the research (lets go crazy with this!), you asked any professional footballer what they had dreamed of when they were growing up, do you think the answer would be: a goal in a cup final and/or perhaps in front of their home fans, or kicking the ball into Row Z down by the corner flag? It’s the former. The answer is the attacking one.

Defenders are the misfits: the children who were just about good enough to become professional footballers, but lacked the physical dexterity or creative capacity required of an advanced position.  Centre-backs are the children that were too tall and/or big and/or slow and full-backs* are the children who were closer to the ground than to the crossbar, when teams were being picked – both sets of children possessing more than a passing macabre interest in the sadistic.  There are of course anomalies: Peter Crouch, for example; he’s just too, well, Peter Crouchy, and there’s a few more besides – but no science is exact, just a collection of theories as yet unproven.

(*Left-backs are an altogether different breed.  If you are a left-footed child, then ninety-nine thousand times out of the number one digit above that, you will be made to play at left-back.  That’s why nowhere in the history of football will you find any evidence of one displaying any defensive qualities, and why they are almost always one of the most talented players in the team.  They weren’t all supposed to be defenders, they’re victims of appendagism – so, you might want to leave Patrice alone!  The rare ones that slip through the left-back net, go on to become the most mesmeric of preternatural attacking footballing creatures that you are likely to see.)

As for the ‘art of defending’, the way I see it, there are three constituent parts to the skillset required in the making of a good defender, seperate to those required of other positions: absolute concentration (yawn!), subordination (boo!) and the ability to cheat like hell, without ever being found out (boo! hiss!).  As far as I’m aware, none of these attributes require even a modicum of genuine artistry to acquire them.

What about things like tackling and heading (I’ll ask on your behalf)?  Well, these, as far as I’m concerned, are basic essentials in any footballer’s toolbag, regardless of position.  I’d also argue that throwing your legs in the direction of the ball when you are without it, is hardly an expression of your technical ability.  Granted, there is knack to the timing, but physics (and luck) play just as significant a role in getting a tackle absolutely ‘spot on’ as an individual’s judgement does. The real aptitude of a defender is in the denial of his, or her own ego: putting the team above oneself and putting duty above personal distinction. Coupled with this, the very fact that it’s unnatural, and not to mention the crippling boredom of it all, make defensive positions an utterly unenviable set of roles to play and ones that only very few can do very well at the highest level.

The evidence in the Premier League over the past few seasons is that proper defenders have had their day.  Players who now occupy the back-line are foregoing the pretence that they give a hoot about anything but gobbling up some of the glory for themselves and the chaos that has ensued has been nothing short of brilliant – a buffet of buffoonery for the eyes.  Amongst the wreckage there are still a stubborn determined few, hell-bent on ruining all the fun, and I suppose I will reluctantly admit that I sometimes fleetingly admire what they occasionally do … sometimes.  However, you will never convince me that you can find wonder and joy in the maneuverings of these artificially created, automated agents of negativity; a lump is not a diamond, and I will never celebrate a nil all draw.

Just imagine if defending was something I’d wanted to talk about – if it was ‘my thing’. Fingers crossed Moyes doesn’t get twitchy and renege on the introduction of Phil Jones and Jonny Evans (and Smalling), for all of our sakes.

This post was originally featured on By Far The Greatest Team.

My football heart, football hurts. I’m not enjoying the football at the moment – its a Rooney thing, a Swag thing and a Danny thing. However, I’m only going to talk about the good…

Good for Rooney that he feels so good. Good.

Good that David Moyes – in the absence of Plan A(dnan) – has figured out a Plan B(e lucky with own goals). Good.

Good that Jones and Evans kept their places. Good. Actually, that one is good.

It’s all good, in the good hood. Good.

So, not for the first time this season, David Moyes is having to compete with a Real ‘dad for tomorrow’s headlines. I don’t geddit. No, seriously, that doesn’t work.

As much as I love Januzaj (and I do), I hope he’s rested in preperation for the Stoke game at the weekend. Danny’s got this. It will mean scrapping Plan A(dnan), but maybe Moyes could try something else. Just an idea. I dunno. Having said that we’re crying out for some consistency in the team line-up; squad rotation is all good fun until someone loses and eye (for eye read: lots of games of football you should win). Moyes has been tinkering more than Tinks Tinkerton from Tinkertown. See also Fergie.

Let’s douche this!

Prediction: 2-0. Danny with his customary two. Other goals from Jonny Evans, with an overhead kick, and Fellaini, lol. Phil Neville to remove his Phil Neville mask – in the wake of Chris Woods removing his Chris Woods’ mask, last week,  to reveal he was Chris Woods all along – to reveal he was Phil Neville all along.

p.s I very much advise getting your optical gear round this by @DanielHarris

Where has it gone wrong for Manchester United and David Moyes?

Iwan (@IwanLehnert):

Brett:

I do wish we could all keep the confident talk of us winning the Champions League down?! If the footy gods get wind of it, we’re toast! As a seasoned expector of good things to happen, I have come to accept that good things tend to happen when the masses least expect them, or at least that’s one theory – the theory that I haven’t got a clue what I’m talking about tends to take precedence over  most others.

In the game that most people – United fans included – gave us little chance in, the perception is that we’ve managed to nudge our noses in front, but personally I think the away team can only really be considered in the driving seat with at least two goals under their belt. The second Real score – and we have to be pretty sure they will – they’re favourites; unless we’re already four up, in the last minute, with them down to nine men, with Ronaldo no longer on the field.

I can’t imagine Danny’s going to be playing from the start in the second, which makes me a bit sad. But hey it’s not all about me. Besides, he can come on and score and be an even bigger hero – isn’t that right Danny?! (He’s definitely reading this.) With our family of disfunctional wingers, we could certainly do worse right now, and even though I haven’t got a clue whether we’ll be going narrow or traditional, I think Fergie would opt for Ashley Young and TV if we were to be lining up as the latter.  With Fergie’s previous to go on, Nani could provide the wild card.

I’ve just dragged myself into predicting the team again, a wholy unhealthy pastime. So, let’s just get it out the way. I’d go 4-4-2 (4-5-1): David; Raf, Rio, Jonny, Evra; Carrick, Cleverley, Giggsy, TV; Rooney, RVP (Though I don’t think there is any chance this team will happen.). It’s a testament to the squad that any number of line-ups and personnel would be relatively welcome. The news Phil Jones isn’t fit to start doesn’t upset me personally, I much prefer Cleverley in there, despite Phil Jones’ display at Real. I’m backing Rafael to take the game to them down the right, unlike he did in the first half in the first leg. If Giggsy starts I think I’ll smile forever, or at least till kick off (Actually, using Giggsy, as I think Fergie will, as a tool to lift the crowd from the bench, is by far the best policy).

I’ve been really enjoying the ongoing emotive mind games Fergie’s playing with Ronaldo. Speculation of him returning and talk of him coming home make for a highly emotionally charged Ronaldo – maybe a Ronaldo who can’t find it within himself to hammer the nail in our CL coffin, should the opportunity present itself. He’s pretty intensely self-interested, but I think it’s unfair to suggest that that’s all he is. He does have feelings for the club and Fergie and there’s nowt wrong with exploiting them, if it offers you a potential advantage* * This rule does not necessarily apply to real life – check the notes on context in your user manual.

I’m really, really excited – the nerves have been shredding for the past week.

Prediction: 2-1

Goals: RVP and Danny

Iwan (@IwanLehnert):

Maybe it’s because we’ve been so utterly dominated in two Champions League finals by the best club side ever assembled, but I definitely got the sense that most people expected Real to win on Wednesday based purely on the fact that Spain’s big two exist on some sort of psychologically higher ground above the rest of us mere mortals. To be fair, I bought into it a little. But I thought that we coped with one of the biggest, most talented club sides in the world admirabl, and came out with a great result.

The bad stuff: Rafael and Evra were all over the place. Rooney’s passing was poor (although expecting him to be at his peak when he’s out wide is daft). Too many loose passes. Ronaldo leaping like a gazelle above a human being that must’ve seemed like a black dot from that kind of orbit to score.

The good stuff: THAT goal. God, Welbeck hasn’t half taken some flak this season. I’m not his biggest fan but it was great to see him score. He must understand that he’s in a lucky position because it hasn’t happened often during the last 26 years that someone has had as low a goals-to-games ratio as this and still played regularly (and if they have then they haven’t lasted too long). But Danny’s clearly an exception, and I’m glad that the club’s still confident in his ability.

De Gea was superb. I didn’t even notice that he’d saved Coentrao at first, such was the pace of the ball, but that was some tasty fingertip work (and there’s no way to say that without making it sound dodgy. I’ve tried. Just revel in the save. It were ace). Sure, one mistake in his next match and the tone will change dramatically, but that’s par for the course.

We probably should’ve won. We weren’t amazing, but Van Persie had two chances to give us a lead to take home and didn’t finish as you’d expect. Not that it’s the end of the world, as having performed like that in Madrid, you’d think that we’ll be even better in a few weeks time.  But the margins for error get pretty damn small when you reach the second leg, and both teams know that if they win, they go through. No pressure, then.

Two quotes worthy of mention: Danny stating that United treated the occasion like any other game was so deliciously understated that it made me want to hug him. It was the biggest game of the season in terms of stature by some distance, but they treated it as a jaunt to Generic Park. Nice.

Secondly, Martin Tyler reminding me that it’s not actually so easy to suddenly start performing in a big game if you’ve been stuttering all season, no matter how much you might want to win. I still feel that Real’s sheer determination to make something of this season could see them through, but after watching how we dealt with them in their own backyard, and how we’ve powered on since the Norwich defeat, there has to be far more positivity about getting to the quarter finals now.

Brett:

Typical, that the week I stop predicting a Danny goal, he goes and gets a massive, massive goal! Whether he scores, or not, plays brilliantly,or not … I love Danny. A diamond is a diamond is a diamond. Still love it when he scores too though obvs. Brilliant.

Thought again, despite an initial *gulp* when the team was announced, that on closer inspection the team was a bold one and Fergie consolidated his purple patch of selections. We were set up to attack and on another night could have pulled off the 3-1 win I was daft enough to suggest. The fact we were forced to defend had nothing to do with our line-up, just that Real are really, really good at attacking. We coped relatively well. Rio and Evans in particular were solid. Rafael managed to overcome the first half and show how he’s matured over the past couple of seasons. Do we need to mention David de Gea? OUTSTANDING (we already knew that)!!!!

It took me yonks to get used to the concept of RVP in a United shirt, now I can’t imagine us without him. Rooney, hhhhmmm not so much. Kagawa showed some neat touches, but was out muscled one time too often. Carrick after the troublesome first half, did what we expected for the most part and Jones did exactly what he was put in to do. I would have personally preferred Cleverley in the midfield, but hey, not going to go there.

Our discipline was superb. Think Fergie can definitely chalk that up as a clear victory over Mourinho.

David the other Bifurcator pointed out, in the pub, and I agree, that Fergie has yet again been at his mindtastic best with all the love for Ronaldo. Making sure the overwhelming emotion of the occasion for Ronaldo and all that is emphasised at every opportunity by Fergie himself and as many of his playing staff as possible. Smart stuff.

The second leg is going to be even more exciting!!!

MOTM: De Gea.