Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
And that is why you can't write novels about football. It doesn't matter how expertly you construct your prose, nor how gripping your final chapter, the human mind is simply incapable of making the implausible plausible on as regular a basis as reality. Who would dare to write a story about a flailing giant of the game, saved by the sudden appearance of an unknown 17 year old? Even the editors of 'Roy of the Rovers' would have dismissed it as a plotline too far.
Federico Macheda. A name so obscure that Wikipedia was almost brought to its knees at the final whistle when every journalist in the Old Trafford press box scrambled for information. Only a manager as certain of his own genius as Sir Alex Ferguson would dare to throw a teenage debutant on for the tensest half an hour of his team's season. No wonder he doesn't want to retire when he can be at the centre of drama like this.
What sport could send you skidding down an emotional Cresta Run like this? In the space of little over ten minutes even neutral observers were dragged to the edge of their seats as a selection of nerve-jangling scenarios unwrapped themselves for inspection. Ferguson loves his 'mind-games', but it looked like of his most infamous refrains was about to return to haunt him. Like the famous racehorse who bellyflopped on the final furlong, United were about to do a 'Devon Loch'. Then there was the prospect of a draw. What would a draw do to the title race, would it leave it open or would it- Good God, look at that! He's only gone and scored!
And what of Liverpool? Yet another last minute winner as their faintly inexplicable run continues. Beaten by Middlesbrough at the end of February, their contribution to the title race had apparently expired, put out of its misery after a series of drawn home games had started the fatal hemorrhage. There have been times this season when they have been fortunate to snatch the points at the death, but this wasn't one of them. They hit Fulham's woodwork so many times it's only a surprise that the crossbar didn't fall off.
In a season like this, you wouldn't even want to write Chelsea off too early. With the media's attention focused firmly on Alan Shearer's managerial debut, Guus Hiddink's team were widely ignored, but take another look at that result. To go to St James Park and face 52,000 fans all convinced that the new messiah, or at least this week's new messiah, has arrived, and still come away with a comfortable win? That's no mean feat and it speaks volumes for the professionalism of their players.
Interestingly, all three of them still have to face a resurgent Arsenal before the season ends. The Gunners haven't lost a league match in 2009, they haven't conceded at home since December and with the bulk of their stars back to full fitness, who's to say that they can't have a decisive impact?
So if you've ever considered putting pen to paper and scribbling the ultimate football novel, as I'm afraid I have on several occasions, it's probably best to put the notepad down. Try as you might, you're never going to come up with anything as exciting as this weekend. I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering if my nerves can hold out until May 24th.
Federico Macheda. A name so obscure that Wikipedia was almost brought to its knees at the final whistle when every journalist in the Old Trafford press box scrambled for information. Only a manager as certain of his own genius as Sir Alex Ferguson would dare to throw a teenage debutant on for the tensest half an hour of his team's season. No wonder he doesn't want to retire when he can be at the centre of drama like this.
What sport could send you skidding down an emotional Cresta Run like this? In the space of little over ten minutes even neutral observers were dragged to the edge of their seats as a selection of nerve-jangling scenarios unwrapped themselves for inspection. Ferguson loves his 'mind-games', but it looked like of his most infamous refrains was about to return to haunt him. Like the famous racehorse who bellyflopped on the final furlong, United were about to do a 'Devon Loch'. Then there was the prospect of a draw. What would a draw do to the title race, would it leave it open or would it- Good God, look at that! He's only gone and scored!
And what of Liverpool? Yet another last minute winner as their faintly inexplicable run continues. Beaten by Middlesbrough at the end of February, their contribution to the title race had apparently expired, put out of its misery after a series of drawn home games had started the fatal hemorrhage. There have been times this season when they have been fortunate to snatch the points at the death, but this wasn't one of them. They hit Fulham's woodwork so many times it's only a surprise that the crossbar didn't fall off.
In a season like this, you wouldn't even want to write Chelsea off too early. With the media's attention focused firmly on Alan Shearer's managerial debut, Guus Hiddink's team were widely ignored, but take another look at that result. To go to St James Park and face 52,000 fans all convinced that the new messiah, or at least this week's new messiah, has arrived, and still come away with a comfortable win? That's no mean feat and it speaks volumes for the professionalism of their players.
Interestingly, all three of them still have to face a resurgent Arsenal before the season ends. The Gunners haven't lost a league match in 2009, they haven't conceded at home since December and with the bulk of their stars back to full fitness, who's to say that they can't have a decisive impact?
So if you've ever considered putting pen to paper and scribbling the ultimate football novel, as I'm afraid I have on several occasions, it's probably best to put the notepad down. Try as you might, you're never going to come up with anything as exciting as this weekend. I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering if my nerves can hold out until May 24th.
