...The Carling Cup Final: Charlie Says vs Colly's Call

Working in the same building as Stan Collymore has its ups and downs. On the down side my colleague is a big, strapping Brummie skinhead with a short fuse who upon first meeting me looked me up and down as a convict would fresh meat. On the plus side I get to hear his hilariously biased score predictions of any fixture involving his beloved Aston Villa.

This time, though, Big Stan isn’t so sure. His claret and blue troops meet my Red Army in the great battle of the, er, Carling Cup this Sunday and even with his partiality Stan feels that Aston Villa will need more than 90 minutes if they are to overcome Manchester United. Stan’s view as a fan is that Villa will nick it in extra time. His ‘objective’ view is that the match will go to penalties.

Before I reveal my own views, let’s take a look at the form. Villa have won two and drawn three of their last five games, including their 3-1 victory at home to Palace in the FA Cup last night. United have won three, drawn one and lost one. United won 3-0 at West Ham on Tuesday, meaning they will have had a day more rest than Villa, so Ferguson cannot blame fatigue as he did after his team were deservedly beaten by Everton on Saturday (even though Everton played in Europe on the same day as United did the previous week).

One of the aforementioned draws was between the two teams in question. The fact is this season Villa have taken four points from United, three of those at Old Trafford, the only league game they have lost at home all season. Both results were deserved and United will have to up their game if they are to retain the Carling Cup. Last season United had luck and, bizarrely, an ipod to thank for a narrow win against Spurs on penalties.

United have injuries to Rio Ferdinand, Ryan Giggs and Anderson to add to long-term absentees Owen Hargreaves and John O’Shea. Villa only have Nigel Reo-Coker injured, but their squad is smaller.

From a personal point of view this game is just that. I can still feel the pain as I ran upstairs to cry into my pillow. The year was 1994. I was a United-obsessed 10-year-old who had just seen my beloved team beaten and my favourite player, Andrei Kanchelskis (whose name was on the back of my shirt) sent off for a handball. For those who don’t remember, Dean Saunders scored the resulting penalty to seal the league cup final for Villa. 3-1.

The year was 2009. I was stood in the North Stand, much taller but only slightly more mentally developed. My team were beaten by a Villa side inspired by Richard Dunne, the former Manchester City captain. 1-0.

Over the years the moisture in my eyes has been replaced by that of a consolatory pint of beer, but the pain remains. I personally, predictably, think United will up their game and win this one. But Villa have not won a trophy in fourteen years. They’ll be right up for this and won’t give an inch. I don’t want a repeat of 1994. I’m watching the match in Derby (for some reason), and I’m sure the locals don’t want to see a grown man cry.

...old hands set the stage but the young gun snatches the starring role. (AC Milan 2- 3 Manchester United)

Manchester United survived a stern test from AC Milan at the San Siro last night but ultimately showed enough class to take an invaluable 3-2 lead into the second leg on home soil. In Wayne Rooney United possess a player capable of turning any game, a player who provided evidence here that he can reproduce his domestic form against world-class defenders with two clinical headed goals.


Leonardo, the Milan manager, belied his team’s conservative history and instead showed his Brazilian roots with an adventurous 4-3-3 formation. Another former Brazilian international, Ronaldinho, provided the spark early on with a mesmerising assault of flicks and tricks to add to his early killer blow: a first-time snapshot that took a deflection off Michael Carrick on it’s way into the United goal.

Milan’s technical ability looked to be too much for United as they were stretched again and again. Another goal might well have killed the English champions. Luca Antonini got in behind but dragged his shot wide. Rio Ferdinand brought down Ronaldinho in the box and was lucky to escape without punishment. Alexandre Pato's pace and trickery were a constant threat.

However, as Milan’s ageing legs began to creak the stamina and vigour of Sir Alex Ferguson’s side came to the fore. While Ji-Sung Park and Darren Fletcher provided the lungs, Rooney provided the class. Chances at the San Siro are often hard to come by and this result owed much to the calm head of United’s plucky Scouse talisman.

Although all the pre-match talk was about another United legend, David Beckham, his impact, like that of Ronaldinho’s, faded once the adrenaline ran short. Once a galactico, Beckham showed a lack of the mobility needed to play 90 minutes in the Champions League. Rooney is at peak of his physical ability and his star burns bright. The king is dead. Long live the king.

One of Leonardo’s predecessors at Milan, Fabio Capello, will surely have taken note of this latest evidence Beckham’s decline, and will also be hoping and praying, as Ferguson must, that Rooney stays fit. Without a Ronaldo to pass the baton to United lean hard on Rooney’s considerable shoulders.

Another fading force enjoyed a frolic with lady luck last night. After 36 minutes played Paul Scholes volleyed the thin air behind Darren Fletcher’s cross, the ball struck his standing leg and then the inside of the post on it’s way in for an equaliser against the run of play. Game on.

Whereas United initially seemed overawed by the occasion the second half saw Ferguson’s team find a focus to contrast the first-half blur. Their wingers, Nani and Park, were frustrated by Milan's tight marking early in the game but now found space as Milan pushed on with some of their players, Ronaldinho in particular, not chasing back. United now had room to manoeuvre behind Milan’s three out-and-out forwards, but it was an overdue substitution which helped them to inch ahead.

Antonio Valencia replaced Nani, whose frustrating form here belied the resurgence seen in recent weeks, and almost immediately provided the substance that the Portuguese did not. His cross to the back post after 66 minutes was headed back across Dida in the Milan goal and into the far corner by Rooney. United’s number ten had been quiet by his recent standards in this game but took his chance when it came, showing signs of the ruthless striker that Ferguson believes he has within.

Eight minutes later Rooney struck again with an emphatic header from a superb lofted pass by Fletcher through a stationary Milan back line. United had now found their rhythm and looked to have the game sewn up. They led by three goals to one and it was they who now set the pace.

However, a touch of naivety from the young Rafael da Silva left him out of position and allowed his Brazilian peer, Ronaldinho, to hit a low cross from United’s right flank for another past master, the substitute Clarence Seedorf, to meet with a cheeky right-foot flick on 85 minutes that left van der Saar with no chance.

The United fans’ chants of ‘cheerio’ were premature. With the San Siro crowd roaring them on Milan pushed forward once more. Tiago Silva headed an excellent chance wide of goal. Filippo Inzaghi, on for the ineffectual Klaas-Jan Huntelaar, fired just over the bar. United’s eleven backs to the wall were soon to be ten when Michael Carrick was shown a second yellow for kicking the ball away in time added on.

Ferguson’s team, however, held on for a final whistle that must have been music to his ears. His side ultimately worked a small miracle by scoring three in a match in which they were dominated for long periods.

Three away goals would normally be enough to kill any tie. But without the injured Ryan Giggs and the suspended Carrick there is a good chance Milan’s midfield could show their class at Old Trafford in the return leg, and every chance that their forwards will put away chances the like of which they missed in droves in the San Siro, should they be allowed to make them as frequently as they were last night.

...How important is the Europa League to Liverpool?

Liverpool are finished, aren’t they? The season has been a disaster on the pitch, the club is divided off it by joint-owners who want out but are reluctant to sell in case such a deal benefits the other. The manager cannot be sacked however bad his team performs because Liverpool simply cannot afford to do so.

Although all this was true a mere month or so ago, Liverpool have improved of late. The ten-man victory over bitter rivals Everton was massive in terms of significance if not three points. They did not concede the latest battle in the war for fourth place to Man City, as many expected they would. The recovery of Alberto Aquilani from injury and the poaching of Maxi Rodriguez on a free add new edge and creativity going forward.

While they can recover in the league to stave off the assault on the Big Four from the likes of City, Villa and Spurs (in that order), their real hope of salvation from the mire they find themselves wading in is to win that massive tournament that is the Europa League.

Can they do it? Liverpool proved in the win against Everton and the 2-0 defeat of Manchester United earlier in the season that on their day, in a one-off match of great significance, they are capable of beating anyone. Although their 1-0 victory against Unirea was anything but convincing they still lead the tie and didn't concede the away goal.

Do they want it? To win this tournament would mean finishing ahead of teams such as Juventus, Valencia, Benfica and Villareal. That would rescue a scrap of pride from this disastrous season. Now the comical group stage is finished the knock-out format will suit Liverpool…

What the hell am I talking about? This trophy is the most worthless scrap of tat to be churned out of UEFA’s vile, money-grabbing bowels. Mickey Mouse himself would blush at the prospect of being mentioned in the same breath as a trophy with less value than the champagne that eleven embarrassed professionals will drink out of during the ‘celebrations’ at the end of the final, wishing they hadn’t been knocked out of the real deal, the big show: The Champions League.

Liverpool’s only hope is to gain a bit of revenue from the Europa in order to feed their growing debt and offer bigger wage packets to Steven Gerrard and Fernando Torres in a desperate attempt to keep them at the club that they have been dragging, kicking and screaming, away from the open jaws of mid-table mediocrity for some time now.

It’s simple. This season is about damage limitation. The league is more important to Liverpool. Whilst winning the Europa League will give them five minutes of half-hearted pleasure in May, losing fourth place in the Premier League could be the beginning of the end: No Champions’ League revenue, a stadium that can’t compete with their competitors and a big red hole in their finances, growing by the second. (By the way unlike the old UEFA Cup if Liverpool did manage to win the Europa league they qualify not for next season's Champions League but...The Europa League again!)

Yes, United are further in debt, but while they continue to challenge at home and in the Champions League they have a fighting chance of matching the huge interest repayments saddled on them by merciless cash leaches from America and represent a more attractive prospect to new investors.

That people like Hicks, Gillett and Glazer can be allowed to do this to clubs the size of Liverpool and United; footballing institutions and part of our national heritage, is a scandal.

Yes, Liverpool are capable of winning their second-rate European ‘trophy’, but if they do not finish in fourth place this season their troubles have only just begun, Europa League or no Europa League.

...It's Alive!

Manchester United have found the cure to their cash-flow problems by announcing a new genetic engineering programme to build the perfect winger for the future.

Cells from Park Ji-Sung and Nani have been carefully extracted and are being painstakingly synthesised by Rio Ferdinand, who has used his lengthy stretches on the sidelines to study for his genetic engineering badges at the internationally renowned Centre of Excellence in Moston.



Firstly Ferdinand will master the complexities of the brain before working on the physical side of this new super player. Nani’s cells have been cryogenically frozen and will not be required for some time.

From Park Rio will delicately remove the gene that causes his selflessness; the innate instinctive urge he has to act as a human sandbag should a grenade be thrown at his team-mates; to pass to players better placed to score than himself; the ability to play the simple ball.

Park’s tendency to pass to players better placed than himself will be taken, although only 80% of it, allowing the player to take a slight risk now and again. Such a minutely delicate procedure can only be performed by an engineer of Rio’s ilk.

Park’s work-rate and willingness to chase back and cover his team mates will play a large role in the process, as will his humility and the way he chooses to conduct himself off the pitch: not slagging off his manager in interviews, that sort of thing.

Now for the body. The cryogenic process must be reversed, to reveal the Nani cell; the idiot frozen inside. Ever seen Austin Powers?

The DNA strands for the conscious side of Nani’s brain are extracted and incinerated. The vital gold remains: the ability for mouth-watering skill; the lightning-fast turns that leave defenders in knots, the thumping, dipping shots.

Rio stands back, admiring his work. His hand pulls down the electrical lever. His wobbly gob opens wide and erupts in a deep, evil cackle as the new winger sits up straight. “It’s alive!” he drawls, “it’s alive!”

“It's, it's...oh, it's Ryan Giggs.”

...Man up Arjen!

For those who haven’t heard, former Chelsea winger Arjen Robben has been under the spotlight in Germany for wearing grey longjohns under his red Bayern Munich kit. “The German Federation want a single colour,” Bayern sporting director Christian Nerlinger said. “We’ll either have to dye them or he’ll have to find another pair.”
 
This story brings up at least a couple of issues. Firstly, why does Robben need to wear longjohns when everybody else copes without? Secondly, in Robben’s defence, what’s the difference between wearing different coloured longjohns and the spectrum of different coloured boots worn by players around the world?

Robben explains: “I’m an explosive player who must warm up well.” Obviously he is still as modest as he was when his precious attitude and histrionics on and off the pitch persuaded Jose Mourinho to offload him to Madrid. “They are not beautiful but they are functional,” said Robben. Much like himself then.

Of course Robben isn’t the first player to don extra garments when the going gets tough. Pascal Chimbonda, for instance, seemingly has gloves stitched to his wrists. Chimbonda once said “I am definitely leaving Spurs. It's all about the money, I don't care about the [Carling Cup] final”. Like Robben, Chimbonda has had more than his fair share of clubs. Surely there is a correlation of sorts here, namely between wearing gloves and leggings and being sold regularly.

OK, there are exceptions. Thierry Henry often wore gloves in England but gave his heart and soul to Arsenal. ‘Gigi’ Buffon has pioneered the wearing of what I am told is called a ‘snood’, which is a fleecy scarf, also seen around the neck of Zlatan Ibrahimovic from time to time.

Buffon can be excused because, as a goalkeeper, he stands still for long periods of the game and, well, he is from Italy, the country in which the alice band is the accepted norm. Ibrahimovic just stands still for long periods of time.

Many players wear sweatbands on their wrists. Players such as Emmanuel Adebayor wear them in their national colours. One look at the Togo national flag shows that these wristbands do not correspond to the team colours of Manchester City, or Arsenal, for that matter. No-one in England seems to bat an eyelid. Neither do they care when Nani wears his putrid lime green boots or Niklas Bendtner wears boots the colour of a regurgitated shish kebab.

So what is the difference with Robben, and why are his longjohns a problem for the powers that be in the Bundesliga? Is it German culture, or is it just to punish him for being such a big girl?

There is one, quite obvious point to make with this whole saga. The only area showing of the offending grey pants is between the bottom of Robben’s shorts and the top of his socks. Players of differing races have different colour skin. Are these crazy Germans suggesting that all visible body parts should be painted in team colours? Or should Robben go for 20 minute sunbed without cream before every game to match the red hue of his kit?

Some keepers also like to wear something to keep their legs warm, and it is here where the plot in the case of the grey longjohns thickens. My dear Watson, if I may draw your attention to a certain Mr Kiraly Esquire. Gabor Kiraly to be specific, a superstitious Hungarian goalkeeper who used to play for Palace. He religiously wore an old pair of grey tracksuit trousers. A bit of detective work shows that Kiraly recently moved to…1860 Munich.

Is it inconceivable that he and Robben have formed some sort of dark, sordid brotherhood of the grey trouser in the back alleys of downtown Munich? Probably, but it’s a nice thought…

To see a shit version of this published on the Times' website (I'm not really selling it am I?!) click here.