It's a Saturday morning. It's that time again. The bloody Mancs. Us vs. Them. It's March 14th. Deep down the nerd in me was hoping we'd play them on the 15th. The 15th of March has always been a great day for the killing of tyrants. It matters not. We'll make this day into the history books instead.
Having previously defeated them at Anfield there is a hint of optimism around the support. Just don't say it too loudly, we've been shite at Old Trafford ever since we got rid of Murphy. But there is always a chance. This squad is different, they never give up - they never quit. We can do this. Our back 4 is quality, we're solid in midfield. We've got Gerrard and Torres. We can do this. No worries. We can do this.
However, 2 minutes prior to kick-off, word reaches that Arbeloa has done his hamstring. It will be Carra at right-back ... against Ronaldo. So it's Lucas for Alonso and Carra for Arbeloa. No matter, we said. He's still got experience, he can contain him. There is no denying it that the Boro monstrosity with Skrtel at right-back brought a combined feeling of
this.
"Not worried. 'Tis alright. We got this. We're fucking Liverpool. We'll batter this lot. If there's one team in need of a good battering it's them. What do you mean nervous? Haven't you ever seen a man breathing heavily into his lucky paper bag, whilst lying on the floor in the fetal position? Lucky tears I tells ya"
Act 1: A piece of work that will make sick men whole.Game starts and Andy Gray & Martin Tyler (for those watching on Sky - as I did on the replay) immediately start out by saying that Liverpool are fucked without Arbeloa, a vital part of this key element of Rafa Benitez's side - the defence. So at least there's hope, the curse of the commentator always kicks in. Then they bring out one of the few thing in our favour. It was the 29th game of the season. It was only the 9th game Gerrard and Torres started together. With those two we always have a chance. There's no better pair in the league.
Game starts off nervously. Park, Rooney and Tevez all take turns attacking Carragher. Ronaldo is playing on the right. Maybe there's hope after all. The Portuguese wing-wizard planted so firmly in Aurelio's back pocket that describing how lost he was requires a J.K. Rowling touch.
Liverpool are nervous. Only attacking options are long balls and hoping that Gerrard and/or Torres do something magical on their own. Torres is being chased and harried, kicked and pulled all over and the ref insists on letting them do it. United aren't threatening but they have the lionshare of the ball and are reducing Liverpool to counter-attacks. We were still in this though. With all their attacking flair and their cohesive movement there still wasn't much threat. The strategy was working.
On the 21 minute the weaknesses were exposed. Tevez broke from midfield, sent a wonderful ball through between Sami and Carra and Park broke through. In a still inexplicable brainfart Reina comes out and fouls Park Ji Sung. Just fucking why, Pepe? Seriously?! It's still frustrating and it happened 4.5 years ago!
Up steps Cristiano Ronaldo, hitherto invisible from the game. He steps up confidently, adjusts his hair. Looks at Reina. Adjusts his hair. Looks down on the penalty spot. Fixes his hair. Takes a deep breath. Fixes his hair. Does his weird stance that he always has before taking set pieces, runs up and ... scores. Reina goes the right way, he's inches away. But as the cliché says, they just don't save them like that.
Nevermind though. It's one goal, from a penalty I mean surely that's an indication that we still have a chance. Right? Riiiiiight? I mean a Ronaldo goal from a penalty can't really tell you that much about how this game is going to play out.
Wrong! - "In the past 48 games in which Cristiano Ronaldo has scored at Old Trafford, Manchester United have 48 wins." Well then! Uhh ... Err ... FUCK!
In the 4 minutes after the goal the Mancs took control. Michael Carrick played the role we so desperately missed in Alonso. Ronaldo was back in play, following his penalty goal. I mean Anderson was involved in the attacking build up! Surely there is no way back into this game now? United are simply too good at home. They're just toying with us, dropping all players into our own half. We can't string 3 passes together without a United player getting in the way.
***What follows is a rough recreation of my reactions to the equaliser***
27th minuteAurelio, just get rid of it out for a throw in. Fucking hell, man! Don't pass it to Skrtel at corner flag! Are you trying to concede another goal?! At least Skrtel had the smarts to get rid of it!*Moves to edge of seat - forgets to breathe*
Torres ... Come on. You can do it. FUCKING COME ON! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKING BASTARD! I LOVE YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE MENTALIST BASTARD! WHAT A PASS FROM SKRTEL! AURELIO YOU GENIUS!!! WHAT VISION! WHAT A DEFENDER!***As you were***
Old Trafford is stunned. Edwin van der Saar has just conceded a goal for the first time at Old Trafford for the first time since November. The mighty Reds, playing in their famous checkered-Mercury colours, are on the prowl.
30th minute. Vidic manhandles Torres in the penalty box. Everywhere else that's a stonewall pen. But this is Old Trafford, Skeletor's Snake Mountain. So of course nothing is given.
The next few minutes are in a haze, I'm sure, to anyone who watched it. Game is end to end. Neither side wants to give up anything. Both goals have come through individual mistakes. Both sides will want to prevent that. Time flies and nothing has happened. You get a knot in your stomach and you feel that it's the longest minute of your life. All of a sudden it's the 41st minute and you could've sworn it was kick-off not 5 minutes ago. All we have to do is make it to half-time. If we can contain them, we can adjust at the half, set up with the intent on focusing on their weakness. They're few and far between though. Even Carrick turned Lucas and had a dangerous shot just over the bar. Talk about playing with fire when he's threatening.
On the 42nd minute Sami Hyypia produces one of the greatest bit of skill you'll not have heard of. I'd advice everyone to find this game again and watch it, just for that. With Wayne Rooney pushing him from behind, the ball comes over his head and with his weaker foot he controls the ball and passes it to Reina, not so much breaking a sweat. Reina kicks a long ball forward. Gerrard flicks it to Torres. Torres with the through ball to Gerrard, Evra brings down Gerrard! PENALTY TO LIVERPOOL!!!
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Before going on to the penalty I can't resist quoting my Greek namesake, who famously said in his 'Nicomachean Ethics': "Eat a bag of dicks, Berbatov. This is how you do it".
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What a surging run from the skipper though! Power, pace, raw determination. He won that penalty fair and square and there wasn't another player on the pitch that could've done it either.
The pen was never in question. He just doesn't miss them. Steven Gerrard delivers when Liverpool need him the most - and you thought I was done with the clichés!
What followed started sometwhat of a tradition!
End of Act 1 - curtains______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Act 2, Brute?The players step out onto the pitch. The Mighty Reds in their hideously metallic away shirts that still bring a smile to your face. How can you not love something that reminds you of this game? 'Glory, glory Man Utd' blasts, cringely as ever. Those 30 seconds where you remember you're playing as the away side subside. The Liverpool supporters take over again.
The Mancs come out with the typical arrogance that Ferguson's side always had. They were just going to get that goal, the when and the how seemed irrelevant to them. They came further and further up the pitch, leaving space behind. Manchester United were the more dangerous side as Rooney and Ronaldo had swapped places. Ronaldo playing as the lone striker threatened to expose the lack of pace in Liverpool's back line. In response Dirk Kuyt featured as support striker, winger, wide-midfielder, right-back, center-back and had it not been for Reina's bullish attitude he probably would've had a go in goal.
Alan Wiley, the game's ref, seemed terribly concerned over the fact that he had given a penalty at Old Trafford near the end of the half. Everything went against us in the opening 10 minutes. Any 50/50 won was a free kick against us. Any through ball seemingly offside. On the 60th minute Mascherano gets a yellow card that they'd gotten away with before. Liverpool retreating into their own box - The goal seemed inevitable.
On the 63rd minute the collective buttholes of Liverpool supporters world wide collectively clenched. Rooney turned Gerrard. Anderson (of all fucking people!) turned Lucas on his heels. Park collected the ball. Tevez found Ronaldo out wide. Ronaldo crossed the ball to Rooney. Rooney hit it across goal. It bounced once. It bounced twice. Tevez fell over in the box. Yet somehow Liverpool had neither conceded a goal nor a penalty.
For me, personally, it was the moment I really started believing that we could do it. It was exactly the type of thing that always falls for
them. After that Liverpool pushed up higher, having been made fully aware the risk we were inviting upon ourselves. It showed perfectly when only a minute later Skrtel picked up a booking for fouling Tevez near the halfway life. The feeling that anything can happen was summed up on the 65th when Lucas Leiva had a shot on goal with his left foot!
On the 68th minute. Liverpool's first substitute came on. Albert Riera, arguably our best player in the previous fixture came on for Andrea "Bossena".
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
Dossena had previously scored his first goal for the club against Real Madrid and was very much the left-back-that-only-works-as-a-wing-back-but-wasn't-as-bad-when-played-as-winger-as-he-tended-to-be-at-left-back in form. It's quite an indication of the faith and talent in the squad that with Carragher at right back and Dossena as the winger - people still had faith we could win the game!
After Rooney's near miss, United were mostly blunt and ineffective. Liverpool had more possession of the ball, looked threatening on the counter and the danger of Dossena was clearly in the back of their minds. They did manage to crawl something back when Tevez (clearly offside, though not given) and Ronaldo had attempts which both missed the goal. Ferguson in typical manner just threw attackers on to the pitch and hoped they'd score in the end. A triple substitution (usually considered the mark of a poor tactician, remarkably not mentioned with Ferguson) followed. Anderson, Park and Carrick gave way for Scholes, Giggs and Berbatov. What followed was an incredible surge of energy, enthusiasm and belief from the United support. Their songs and chants audible for a record breaking 11 seconds, the kind of response not heard at the 'Theatre of Dreams' since the early Matt Busby days.
They were soon silenced hower. What followed was the type of passing that had Guardiola's Barca twitching with envy. As Lucas played the high ball in, Kuyt
miscontrolled it phenomenally hits it with his heel into Gerrard's path. Vidic, having previously been spanked by Torres, brings down Gerrard. Having missed the ball, he tried his best to grab Gerrard's pair. Alan Wiley takes a bit of time and off goes Vidic for the second time in a row.
Up step Aurelio and Gerrard. Will it be a Gerrard outswing or an Aurelio inswing? As Man United can't decide whether they want 4 or 5 in the wall Aurelio asks the question we were all thinking.
He steps up. Into the bottom corner. It's Liverpool 3, Manchester United 1. Aurelio jumps up and punches an angel (I can only assume, it was a strange celebration). Reina jumps and shouts like a bloody mentalist. "Rafa - Rafael. Rafa - Rafael. Rafa - Rafael. Rafael Benitez" rings around Old Trafford. If you were trying not to smile or believe too early, it was hard to fight it. The smile just wouldn't go away.
Always the pragmatist, Rafa adjusted. Torres had been limping. The goal was there and Torres needn't be risked further. On came Ryan Babel as Old Trafford again erupted with the sound of Liverpool supporters. the torres bounce, infectious as ever before. You constantly need to check the scoreboard to remind yourself which side was supposed to be at home. Liverpool were winning on and off the pitch.
The game should've been done and dusted in the 85th minute. Dossena broke down the wing. Crossed to Babel who backheeled it into the path of Steven Gerrard. Surely it's 4-1! But Stven Gerrard of all the players on the pitch shoots over the bar. In the very next attack Berbatov hits the post, but luckily the Bulgarian mobility machine was adjudged offside.
Liverpool drop scarily into their own box. It's not over yet, it never is with those c*nts. You just can't trust that they'll ever truly roll over. Mascherano panics and kicks it out for a corner, when there was no need to. Luckily for Liverpool they had Sami Hyypia. What a man, what a legend, what a
shameless plug for last season's advent calendar where I wrote about Sami Hyypia.
Hyypia headed Giggs' corner away. Wth him at the back we were invincible. There wasn't a chance this shower of shite were scoring against him, even if they played for the rest of the weekend. They just weren't scoring against Sami Hyypia that day.
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In the ultimate sign of disrespect to Ferguson and his legacy at Old Trafford Rafa Benitez will stop at nothing. Taking off Steven Gerrard on the 90th minute, for a standing ovation, bringing on Nabil El Zhar. Reina, seemingly stalling, takes a long run up to take the goal-kick. It's straight down the pitch, over Ferdinand, out of the reach of John O'Shea - Andrea Dossena gets to the ball, he chips Edwin van der Saar. Andrea Dossena has just scored Liverpool's 4th against Manchester United, at Old Trafford. After 11 clean sheets in a row at Old Trafford, Manchester has just conceded 4 at home. The Liverpool support chanting "WE WANT FIVE! WE WANT FIVE! WE WANT FIVE! WE WANT FIVE!". As the chant switches to a deafening rendition of "You'll Never Walk Alone" there are an alarming amount of empty seats. The stadium emptied quicker than a Swedish toilet, with remarkable efficiency and well capable of dealing with shit.
End of Act 2 - A standing ovation_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Act 3 - Friends, Scousers, Countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Ferguson, not to praise himThe fault, dear Brutus media, is not in our stars, but in ourselves
is arguably what Ferguson could've said after the match. However he was a moaning hypocrite and didn't show up after the game, like the big baby that he is. For all his big talk, he left his home turf, suffering the biggest defeat in years, to a man he hated, to the team he envied the most. But this wasn't just a win against
them.
This was Liverpool's first double over their rivals since the 2001/2002 season (where Liverpool also won the Charity Sheild against them).
This was also Rafa's first double over them and at a time where "Us vs. Them" felt as strong as it had in, what felt like, a lifetime.
Liverpool had now done the double over the Mancs & Chelsea. Put 4 against Real Madrid and there wasn't a side in Europe that didn't fear us. What a time to be a Liverpool supporter.
As it turned out, this game had but one downside. It turned out to be Sami Hyypia's last start for the club, he was departing for Leverkusen the following season. What a game to leave on though. There haven't been too many fond memories of that place in Ferguson's time. But this one surely tops the list. Seeing the stadium empty, their captain off with a red card and Ferguson's look of emptiness just sort of warms the heart. And in the end, those memories will sit with you for as long as you live. If trophies are the high point of football, memories come pretty damned close in the second.
And to me - they don't come much sweeter than this one.