An unlikely hundred percent

My goodness!

I would have never expected this from even my beloved Manchester United... but what the heck, you take what you can get, I guess. My instinct tells me never to gloat, because I know from years of experience - especially in recent years - that karma is a bitch that bites your bollocks bloody hard (fellow MU fans, please say this enthusiastically, emphasising the Bs - and mean it!).

So, we're a bit rough around the edges, but with a bit more growing up, and a little less f**king up, we might just see the end of the season with a bit more optimism than we did before we started it.

Good luck, fellas!

***

Allow me to welcome and old friend and fellow colleague who has just joined us in blog-o-land. Boys and girls, say hello to Senor Sreejit - a "tell-it-like-it-is", "keepin-it-real" kinda dude. And he writes a good tale.

Those who know Sreejit know what a top bloke this guy is, except for two very pertinent points:

1. His obsession with fitness, (and I believe that fitness is a serious impediment to a social life); and

2. He's a Spurs fan. Only 1 of 4 that I know of. In the world.

***

I'm off to London, England tomorrow. Some glam autosports project, which includes a day at the famous Silverstone, in the pits, paddock, observing a test, and a possibly elaborate attempt on my part to plant a kiss on the famous tarmac where the greats of the sports laid rubber.

If I should return with charred lips, don't ask why.

Will I kiss the hallowed tarmac?

There's your lot, Fergie

Quite a bit you can do with Powerpoint, innit?

So then, are they good enough to keep pace with the likes of Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal, and keep the likes of Spurs, Newcastle and Blackburn well behind you?

Can you toss 'em up, week in-week out, and still drum up the right results? Can you sustain it the entire season through?

Are these boys capable of being motivated? Do you still have it in you to still motivate them?

I don't mean any disrespect, Sir Alex - but frankly you have become a victim of your own success. This whole club has become a victim of its own success. We the fans expect a lot, even those of us shirt-grabbers in the Far East who have never been through an Old Trafford turnstile...

The way I see it, you'll have fans who will chin up and say, "Thanks for the memories, Fergie... now please bugger off!", or fans (like myself) who are impatient as hell simply because we give a damn, and who are more likely to want to see you fix this problem, enjoy one last moment in the sun, they wish you well as you head off to yer wee village in Govan with yer grandchildren.

Many will be watching the game against Fulham, already resigned to the fact that we'll at least be challenging for the last Champions' League spot. Can we even make it there, Fergie? We would like to believe we could, and perhaps nick a cup or two somewhere.

But things are really not good as far as fan-fidence is concerned. And I do mean not good. There are too many questions Fergie. So you be sure you get the answers out on the field.

***

Previous musings on my beloved Manchester United:

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away

A stump for the chumps of England

Saviour Mascherano

See, the emperor is naked

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away

This quick photoshop job means there surely will be new jerseys next season

With all the flak that Manchester United has had to take lately, surely, the last thing the club needs are its own fans turning up the volume on them.

But let's face it, this is a club in serious trouble. After a dozen or so years of glory (the treble, doubles, and thophies and titles aplenty), this is an institution coming apart at the seams.

Roy Keane is gone. Never to return. And we have replaced this legend with caricatures, at best (Neville as captian, Carrick in the midfield role).

Alex Ferguson will never be at his tactical and strategic best again. He is even polite to journalists these days, much less to Jose Mourinho.

David Gill is no fit top-hat for a club this big. We have become impotent on the transfer market, and unwittingly have let good players go for far less than we we're willing to pay for mediocre replacements. He belongs in a Malaysian GLC.

The team is is shambles. Rooney and Ronaldo. A questionable defence. A unsorted midfield. An almost toothless attack. No depth on the bench.

All that record season-ticket sales will only mean that the fans are expecting much of the club. An expectation that sadly doesn't look close to being met.

Instead, we gaze enviously at Chelsea, Liverpool, Arsenal, and even Spurs, as we dream about the stuff we could do if we could just pinch player from each of those clubs.

***

Yes, I know I am one fickle minded bugger. First I said the emperor was naked. Then I thought I saw his clothes. Then I realised it was a fig leaf after all.

I can now see all his wringkly bits. Ain't that a sight!

A stump for the chumps of England

When I started this blog, I had an idea of I could talk extensively about football and sports in general, meet and greet some other like-minded bloggers and friends alike, and wax lyrical about my beloved Manchester United.

I wanted to keep this spot clean, clever, informative and discussive, and steer clear of trivial gossip and rants.

But things have not gone the way I thought it would, and if I may paraphrase my favourite cartoon character Popeye: "I has taken all I can takes, and I can't takes it no more!"

What the fuck is up at Old Trafford?
We have become impotent on the transfer market. All hope rekindled last week has fizzled out like the last hiss on a soggy twig in the furnace. Hiss 1. Hiss 2. And Hiss 3.

No Gatusso signing, in spite of more than a year's worth of romancing. No pride-swallowing Vieira. No Ballack. No Obi Mikel. Not even Kuszczak from West Bromwich bloody-Albion! And now certainly no Javier Mascherano.

Instead, we get this near-retirement geriatric.

Alex... WTF?