It brought back memories

Manchester United 2 Chelsea 1
Premier League Saturday 18th January 2003

It was one of those Sheffield Wednesday type performances. You remember -
back in �93 when Brucie scored in the six hundred and fifty first minute of
injury time to keep United in the title hunt. Another such game, or so I
heard, was the one against Sunderland on New Year�s Day. We were all over in
the US at the time and I had phoned my Dad to wish them a Happy New Year. It
was early morning where we were and we were about to set off 200 or so miles
further south. My Dad told me that there were 10 minutes to go and United
were a goal down. I had thought he meant 10 minutes before half-time and
suggested we�d be fine. He obviously thought I was just the same old over
confident bastard and audibly shrugged his shoulders as another chance was
spectacularly saved. About three and a half hours later we reached our
destination and the phone rang. It was my Dad who had found it difficult
waiting to give us the news of an injury time victory, and confirmation of
my reasons for being ever optimistic.

So, this was my first game back after a mid season break in the (mainly)
sunshine. My first game for a month and an early kick-off. And, as I have
said before I don�t mind these because travelling is so much easier. So much
easier in fact that you may wonder why we chose to leave later for a 3
o�clock kick-off. I�ll have to think about that one! I picked up big Rich at
9am and we were parked in Salford Quays before 11 just in time for the pubs
to open! And we were in the nearest one drinking a pint of Boddies within
minutes. Then a leisurely stroll down to the ground to meet up with Steve.

It�s a funny thing about Chelsea, but I have never been able to stand them -
or their fans. �60,000 mappets� they kept singing, but look to yourselves
you sad bastards and come to terms with the fact that it�s you who are the
muppets. It surprised me when I took Eliza to her first game against
Chelsea. She was very young and hadn�t been going for very long and suddenly
she comes out with, �I hate this lot�. I was shocked. How did she come to
hate them when surely she had never seen them before? Had I genetically
transferred hate genes, and if so, who else did she hate. Apparently
Liverpool and Leeds were the prime hate subjects. So it was true - hate
genes can be passed on to children!

It largely felt good to be back. When United are in your blood, Old Trafford
is always going to be your second home. But it also felt slightly weird and
the first half didn�t help. It was dominated mostly by Chelsea. United�s
passing was woeful and uninventive. Uninspiring stuff and not a surprise
when Gudjohnsen scored with a neat flick over Barthez. Only after that did
United play with any real conviction. It woke them up and suddenly it wasn�t
just Keane and Phil Nev who were snarling in midfield - the others did too.

A goal still looked highly unlikely. Well, highly unlikely until Cudicini
kindly gifted the ball to Becks on the right wing. His cross was absolute
perfection. From where we sit we could plainly see the arc of the ball as it
made it�s way over everyone and landed exquisitely  on Scholesy's bonce, who
headed past the keeper at his near post. Chelsea, and their nauseating
following, were stunned. It was Scholesy's fifth successive scoring game.
Not a great first half, but United were out of jail. The defence had looked
vulnerable and the midfield congested.

The Lawman appeared on the pitch at half-time to a resounding ovation.
Sometimes you wonder with there being so many new fans at the grounds these
days whether any of them know who these legends are, but at least some of
them stand the test of time. And one of them is thankfully Denis Law, one of
the greatest players ever to pull on the red shirt. I had the pleasure of
meeting the original King a couple of years ago at an evening in memory of
Dennis Viollet and was delighted when the man lived up to every expectation
I ever had of a hero. I went below to pay my customary visit and stood in
line behind a lad who had already been to the bar and was supping his pint
while pointing at the pissoire. A juggling act of acrobatic proportions!

Back up top just as they kicked off, Giggs had come on for Phil Nev.
Unfortunate for Nev as I thought he had had a decent first half apart from
allowing Petit to pick his pocket which lead to the Chelsea goal. But United
were crying out for more width. Giggs did well and was given the sort of
encouragement you would expect. There were no jeers - only cheers. The game
had picked up and so had the atmosphere, and for the first 20 minutes United
were almost camped at the Stretford End. Things looked far more promising
and even Chelsea�s introduction of Enrique Inglesias, or Julio Inglesias, or
Enrique de Lucas, or J Lo, or whoever it was didn�t alter anything apart
from the singing.

United poured (not pawed) all over the rent boys. The passes were hitting
the targets and the shots too.Cudicini made more than one superb save. Ole
beat Desailly and hit the post. And Ruud and Scholesy went close. With 20
minutes to go Diego came on for Ruud. Many have expressed surprise, but it
wasn�t to me. Ruud had just had his best effort miraculously saved by
Cudicini, but wasn�t quite firing. Diego brought new life as Giggs had done
before.

Chelsea had visibly retreated, obviously settling for the draw. United
wanted only one thing - the win. Not that chances didn�t come their way.
Lampard should have reached a header, and probably would have scored if he
had. And Zola missed an absolute sitter. He seemed more surprised than
anyone when Zenden�s pass found him in acres of space with only Barthez
barring his way to victory and completely fluffed the opportunity. The fact
it was right in front of where we sit made it worse. Or, on the other hand,
better - after he�d missed!

With five minutes to go Veron came on. Silvestre was the man to give way. It
hadn�t been one of his better games. United took the option of a 3 man
defence with Giggs and Becks as wing backs. Chris said, �He may not even get
to touch the ball in five minutes.� True enough, but he may only have to
touch it once to make the telling pass I thought. A couple of minutes later
Chris got up to leave. �I hope you miss a goal� I said. �I hope I miss one
too� he replied and made his way down the gangway. When the game went into
injury time and three minutes were announced it always brings back memories
of that day on 26th of May.

The Stretford End half of the pitch was jammed. Only Barthez remained at our
end. United continued to pile forward and with seconds left the whole place
literally erupted. All we saw was that the ball flew into the top of the
Stretford net. We only knew it was Diego when he tore off his shirt! The
celebrations were as they had been back in �93. And there was plenty of
space to celebrate in because so many had already left. How they can leave
when they know what United are capable of in those last few minutes is
completely beyond me. But, they have always been the losers as those are the
defining moments. If anyone ever questions the validity of making the effort
to actually watch a game live, those moments are all you have to point to.
They are moments of absolute bliss.

The irony was that it had been Veron who made the telling pass threading the
ball through an almost impossible gap. Who would dare to criticise him now?
And - oh those rent boys don�t like it up �em - or do they?!!

There will never be a better time to score the winner than in the last
seconds. There is nothing to compare to it. You only have to remember last
year�s defeat and the half empty ground at the end of the game to understand
how much this victory meant. And the whole team celebrated together. Even
Barthez ran the length of the pitch to join in. At the final whistle the
ground was still rocking. No-one else left until the team had disappeared
down the tunnel. Under the stands the singing continued and out in the
streets too. �Di-e-go oh oh oh oh, Di-e-go oh oh oh oh - he came from
Uruguay and made the rent boys cry�. Diego is a cult figure. He�s not yet an
Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, but if he continues in this vein he will be, but he�ll
have to work out a way of getting his shirt back on without enlisting the
help from the kit man!
-- 
Copyright Paul Windridge 2003: http://www.Red11.org
--


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