Someone, naming no names, wrote this about Antonio Valencia in April 2012:
They tell you that football is a game played by eleven, not one, but what is this sport, like the chocolate selection box you feel guilty for constantly treating yourself to, if you haven’t got your favourites? Valencia is the caramel hazelnut.
Things have changed. The caramel hazelnut that tasted so good has mysteriously disappeared; the wrapper*, of some sort of green-y, blue colour, is the same, but the contents are different. Some factory negligence or something.
When you look past the silverware and the guard of honours (i.e the important stuff (also: topical)), your favourites alone can make football worthwhile. It’s soppy, but true. It’s what makes a live game a little more enjoyable and your own sense of nostalgia feel unique and personal. Valencia could have confidently called himself a favourite of many not long ago, but, like life, extended chocolate metaphors and ’90s boybands, things invariably turn ugly. Fine, except it’s happened too soon. Valencia was better when he was one of the favourites. The Rafaels, De Geas and the Welbecks remain the milk ganaches, praline truffles and tangy oranges, but Valencia, this champagne-coffee-coconut-strawberry treat, is no longer among them.
Anything can be made to look better — or worse — when you have something to compare it to. Antonio Valencia has not had a good season. Put it next to the one before that and it’s been close to terrible. And, when you consider the expectation a player of his/at this level carries, ‘close to terrible’ still stands even if you were to completely isolate this season.
What’s more worrying is that it’s difficult to pin down why. For a player to become worse is expected; heck, Valencia is like any other winger, cursed from birth, but from one season to another and by this much? At 27? For such a superior United side? Is Garth Crooks more entertaining than he is thick? To simply put it down to confidence seems lazy, regardless if true, because it’s not really known how much confidence affects a player and then, if so, why it has such an impact. Does it suddenly erase natural ability? It could all just be a coincidence; that instead of having five or six forgettable games like he had last season, he’s had 25 or 26 out of his 30-odd this time around. What about the change of shirt numb- no.
In reality, it might be that United have set up differently in a way that hasn’t favoured the Ecuadorian. Sir Alex Ferguson has been bold with selection and constant with his changes: happy times for the wide-men in this joyful season where, at times, the manager has played just one or none at all (Valencia, though, has made as many league appearances as he had in his award-winning year). But it still doesn’t completely explain Valencia’s profligacy throughout, where, with the ball, he’s stumbled and stuttered (and not in the Valencia way of ’11, where his Garrincha stutter was his chief weapon), been matched by defenders he would usually get the better of and produced balls so unworthy of its homonym in the shadow cabinet. His struggles and the lack of answers for it suggests that football is a game better left alone, where all attempts at analysis are futile. Perhaps he was never that good at footb- no.
It’s hard being hard on Valencia, but ultimately justified. Singling him out makes sense because, one, he’s played the most games of all the wingers, and, two, because his descent is the most surprising.
All of this is less a criticism of the player than it is an expression of disappointment in a season largely lacking in these. It’s what makes you say ‘close to terrible’ instead of just ‘terrible’.
How sad. And, anyway, his best performance? The title-winning game against Aston Villa, perhaps, and in those around it up to the 1-1 draw at Arsenal on Sunday, but there’s little about a slight improvement to be enthusiastic about. There was also Chelsea in a cup replay — where he played at right-back, of course.
*Well, the non-bourgeois chocolate selection boxes contain wrapped chocolates.
Ashley Young had one of his finest games in a red shirt — opposition and definition of finest considered — in Manchester United’s 3-2 win over Manchester City earlier this season. Good things barely repeat themselves, however, and so Monday’s reverse fixture was slightly different. Indeed, it was exactly that: a reversal of all the good we saw in December, where United — again, opposition considered — had looked like a team worthy of all of football’s best silver. Months later, reverse! Young played badly; the forwards frustrated; on this occasion, the midfield battle was lost and Phil Jones’ gurns officially went from amusing to disturbing.
United’s great lead, the one positive that would always have been regardless of the result, means they should get that silver, but what happened at Old Trafford yesterday cannot possibly be ignored. At least, it could, if it was a one-off. It wasn’t. Since the second leg defeat to Real Madrid last month, United have been unconvincing for five straight games.
This is a really strong United team. Not Sir Alex Ferguson’s best, but a capable team nevertheless. And what’s better than a strong, capable team? A strong, capable squad, which United have. The one of 1999, according to Ferguson, was “not nearly as strong as the squad I have got today.” It remains clear which is the better team but he feels this one has a greater number of options.
Which meant it was a shame that it wasn’t utilised as well as we might expect from Ferguson.
We saw it against Madrid; to respond well to Nani’s red card was always going to be difficult, but United had options on the bench they (a) either didn’t use or (b) or used too late (Shinji Kagawa and Wayne Rooney). This was just a one-off, so excusable. And, in the manager’s defence, United had both matched Madrid for sixty minutes and then found their options limited with a man short. But none of those can be used as defence here. It took 80 minutes for a substitute, and that was when the amnesiac Antonio Valencia had replaced Danny Welbeck. There was a second in the 85th minute, Javier Hernandez, and a third two minutes into stoppage time. That was Shinji Kagawa, a man whose velvet boots can find life where there isn’t any and change a game. Except he didn’t have any time to touch the ball.
What was also jarring was seeing an exhausted Ryan Giggs play 90 minutes in central midfield. The decision to start him was fine, but whatever you do with him, he’s still a 39-year-old. Back in December, United were able to keep Yaya Toure quiet at the Etihad with a two man midfield of Michael Carrick and Tom Cleverley. It didn’t matter so much that the opposition players were (arguably) better as individuals, or had outnumbered them. The visitors were set up to attack and the partnership worked with that in mind. They gave that impression again with a few early, sweeping moves but Giggs and Carrick do not complement each other as well and that was soon realised, with Gareth Barry (exclamations!) performing well for City. Giggs has been wonderful to watch this season, but mainly because he’s been rationed and used properly. He played 30 minutes too many.
Meanwhile, Patrice Evra, Rafael and Young were not much better, Welbeck was a lot of things and Robin van Persie only really looked like Robin van Persie with the assist for the equaliser. Jones in central defence was United’s best player, but, in truth, there were so few candidates anyway. Rooney showed promise in the first half, and was kept on despite a sharp decline in the second, perhaps for his unique ability to have an impact even when not playing well.
It is tempting to conclude on a positive note. Just “12 points” and leave it at that. Because it was that sort of game, a depressing one … opposition considered.
Creators of television series are pretentious enough to describe their shows as like a ‘book’; an episode is essentially a chapter. They mostly frown on critics for this very reason. The superb Boardwalk Empire‘s recent third season was its best despite the fact that the first half of the 13 episodes were average. (Not all relevant but) In the end, the plotlines in the average ‘chapters’ grew in importance and became more enjoyable as the season progressed – and so the pay-off was extremely satisfying. It’s a clunky metaphor for the football, in a way. The parts you’d rather forget do not have to be as troubling as they were in real time when you begin to consider the whole thing. If United go on and win the title in May, it may very well be like that. There’s this game and the last month or so, but then there’s everything before it.
“Good things barely repeat themselves”? Not true. It only feels like that in bad times.
Observers will point to an uninspiring 1-0 home win over Reading last Saturday as proof of the weakest Manchester United side since that other time they were just as dire. It’s almost an extension of last year’s criticisms: why watch, analyse and conclude when there’s a way to do none of that? Good point. Leave it at that.
15 (fifteen) points suggests something else entirely. But, then again, maybe not. United should have won the title last year and this new lead might just be like the other. There are no assurances. But how much does that matter right now? Sir Alex Ferguson did not want to dwell so much on the Reading game, saying “it wasn’t a great performance but where we are now is not down to today, but the last six months.”
And, for now, where United end up in May is less relevant. There’s no good predicting — though it should happen — when United’s present situation gives the best indication of where this team is. Do they deserve to have such a lead? Almost certainly.
A long time ago, a good side was exactly that and few would argue otherwise — partialities rarely ever clouded judgement, it was that easy to see. This season, public enemy or not, some have found it difficult to acknowledge just how good this team is, or can be. The truth is they’re harder than you think.
– To hell with some, though. On closer inspection, you’d be able to see why this team are at the top. In an interview with Gary Neville, Ryan Giggs admitted that the 3-2 aggregate defeat to Real Madrid left him “disappointed”, and plainly said that he hadn’t felt that way for a “long, long time.” Disappointed because of a referee’s game-changing call? Perhaps, partly. Disappointed because United just didn’t match Madrid over 180 minutes, because they fell to defeat in much the same way they did to another Spanish side, a mid-table one, in Europe the year previous? Not close. “But … there are so many positives as well,” Giggs said. “Because I think that we performed so well, we made Real Madrid look ordinary at times. And it was a proper European performance.” It might have promised more than it actually did, but United’s very admirable 180 minutes told us what we needed to know.
– What of football’s fascination with The Paper? Teams that look stronger ‘on paper’ are among the best ones, but don’t necessarily have to be the best one. The Paper states that there are countless sides United’s superior — but top-tier football is not Top Trumps. It might have been enough for Manchester City last year, it might even be this year (just because, you know) but it isn’t fair on players that have the misfortune to remain unappreciated, or on managers that value team chemistry as much as anything else. Those such as Rafael da Silva or Jonny Evans would not have to worry so much about what’s being said if a round piece of silver for the summer was promised, but it’d still be nice if they could have it their way. (As an aside, those two may just be examples, but very fine ones at that. It almost feels like an extension of last year’s crit-oh, see how that works.)
– It is possible for a good United side and a weaker league to co-exist. Even — even — if the Premier League is no longer in line with the very best in Europe, 15 points between last year’s runners-up and champions remains an incredible lead, and 29 games is an appropriate enough scope to say such a thing. If you weigh these two arguments up against each other, the lead surely says more — being a fact — than a theory about the state of the league, no matter how obvious it may be. It’s also worth noting the leads Barcelona and Bayern Munich boast at this moment; if these two teams are so far ahead in their leagues, does that give anyone justification to dismiss the rest? Not when the rest include Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund. That’s not equating them, but there are clear parallels to be had that might say more than a typically Anglo-centric view about the best-suddenly-not-so-great league. Agree for agreement’s sake that the quality has waned, and 15 points is still very good.
(As a further aside, it could be argued that the nature of knockout football means this year’s Champions League doesn’t actually say anything about where English football is right now; certainly, all eight of those teams, of course, are not the best eight in Europe.)
– The Real Madrid game is worth going back to. Here’s a rough list of players whose performances in either leg were well-received: Danny Welbeck, Rio Ferdinand, David de Gea, Phil Jones, Michael Carrick and Evans. Throw in Nemanja Vidic, Patrice Evra, Giggs, Welbeck again, Ferdinand again and even Rafael for a much-improved 2nd leg. Some of these players don’t play every game. Where United have been particularly successful, above everyone else, is their level of depth. Ferguson went as far to say that the treble-winning squad of ’99 was “not nearly as strong as the squad I have got today.” The 1999 squad was complete: but complete in terms of the level of its core players, and where they had gone and where they could go. Literally, not so much. “When we went to the Champions League final in 1999, Roy Keane and Paul Scholes were suspended, but Henning Berg was the only injury,” Ferguson said. “I had to pull in a player, Jonathan Greening, who had only played once or twice in the first team. He got a medal for being on the bench. That gives you an idea of the strength of the squad. Now I could change a whole team.”
Depth is a tricky one. Having depth is what some mistook Arsenal for having when they fielded a weakened side against Blackburn Rovers in an FA Cup game. A bench featuring Santi Cazorla, Theo Walcott and Jack Wilshere is pretty useful, except it’s simply not an indication of anything. Leaving your first-team players on the bench is not a sign of good depth, regardless of whether Arsenal have it or not. A better example, conveniently, would be United’s 18 against Madrid. The big games are the best sign of depth. On the bench, even if you discount Rooney from the second leg as he’s a proper starter, they had Evans, Shinji Kagawa and Javier Hernandez. That’s depth.
– The team’s one big problem, central midfield, has not even been that this season. While Paul Pogba continues to be the subject of envy over at Juventus, the truth is that United are not missing him so much (in the same way they don’t have to miss someone like Gerard Pique). Michael Carrick continues to be magnificent and the side look most comfortable with his presence, Tom Cleverley has had a good season while Phil Jones could feature more regularly in that position in the future. But even when it hasn’t worked so well, which it has a few times (especially with Anderson), United have managed. Lately, less goals are being conceded while goals are still being scored. Whether the theory that improvements at the back since the turn of the year have hindered Van Persie lately hold up or not, the team still remain a threat. Again, United have so far been able to manage with the squad they have.
– March saw United’s first defeat of the year, but that was to Madrid, where United, as cheesy as it sounds, lost with pride intact. There was also the near-collapse at Chelsea, where the hosts squandered a 2-0 lead in the FA Cup, but a dismal 45 might not prove anything at all, especially when Manchester United could relate to their renascent opposition It was almost inevitable that Chelsea would lead a second half charge, as most good teams in that position do. United’s biggest regrets was their failure to keep possession or to kill off the game, but those “six months” that Ferguson spoke of means it is dangerous to dwell on, and then to make conclusions from, just from that (though, at the same time, it is worth remembering). As Sean Ingle wrote, “we forget that the 1998-99 treble-winners, arguably Ferguson’s greatest side, had their struggles.” Nostalgia certainly obscures things — United won that title by just a single point (though, amusingly, the next one by 18). Hindsight, if all goes to plan by May, would inevitably alter perceptions on this team somewhat.
– The 2-0 win over Everton in early February is a good example of when United get it absolutely right. Even with the biggest game of the season to date not far away, the Reds managed to assert their dominance, and, in the process, prevented Everton from getting a goal, with a satisfying and efficient performance. United’s control of the game meant they could have scored more, but what was impressive was that when they eased off, with Madrid in mind, they still didn’t look like conceding. Above luck and refereeing decisions, they have won games through their own hard graft.
– The remaining nine games could possibly see that 15 point lead cut with City, Arsenal and Chelsea to come. At the start of the season, United would have been second favourites against City; but an away win in the winter perhaps hints at yet another shift in power. Indeed, one great indication of a much-improved United is how they have played against the biggest teams. So far this season, they’ve beaten Arsenal once, Chelsea (and City, as mentioned) as visitors and Liverpool, so often a difficult game, twice. No prediction for what’ll come, but it’s not false that United are better placed to win those games now than they were in 2011/12 or even at the start of this campaign.
If you’re one of the two to have noticed, apologies for the lack of posts. If you think about it, this is like three pieces in one.
Greed: Wanting to have more than Dante.
Law vs. Busby, 1966
If a tenner a week were to ensure a generous flow of goals for the next few seasons, any football manager in the world would — without a second thought — rummage through his jeans and pay it up himself. This, however, was 1966, and Matt Busby usually wore tracksuits. Denis Law made a mistake in asking for an extra £10-a-week, finding that his manager’s response was not to offer his hand, rather to deal Law a slap on the wrist. Law was transfer listed as a result with Busby telling Law, in the latter’s own words, that “he wouldn’t be held to ransom.” It didn’t stop there: “He gave me a prepared statement of apology to sign and he presented it to the press.”
“He might have looked like a cuddly grandfather, but step out of line and he had an iron fist,” Law told Champions in 2012.
Kanchelskis, bloody hell, 1995
There exists a few Manchester United fans, even now, that are reluctant to forgive Andrei Kanchelskis for the way in which he left the club in 1995, but the general lack of animosity can be easily identified through the simple fact that football was a different game then, and the whole saga caused far too much confusion that it probably wasn’t worth bothering with anyway.
When you look at United’s recent history for things that may constitute greed — Roy Keane’s contract wrangle in 1999 (“I am not naive enough to settle for anything less than a reasonable valuation of my worth”), Wayne Rooney in 2010 and others — few are on a par with this. It’s just that this one is better suited to the ‘oddball’ section of the news.
In ‘Football – Bloody Hell!’, a biography of Sir Alex Ferguson, Patrick Barclay writes that the United boss would have liked to have kept the winger, but the “Ukrainian had manifested a restlessness which Ferguson ascribed to a clause in his contract … guaranteeing the player a slice of any profit if he were sold.” It did not help that Ferguson was not initially wise to the clause, but, regardless, he had to be moved on. “I was fully aware that the removal of Kanchelskis … would leave us short in the wide right position but his attitude was so bad that there was nothing to be gained from keeping him,” Ferguson wrote in Managing My Life.
Kanchelskis’ agent caused further complications. Grigori Essaoulenko had rewarded Ferguson with £40,000 that Barclay writes was “inside a samovar … why the money had been put in United’s safe and not reported to the Premier League inquiry into ‘bungs’ which followed [George] Graham’s punishment was to become a pertinent question when the affair came to light in Ferguson’s autobiography. But it was returned eventually, when Kanchelskis finally went to Everton, after another colourful episode when, according to Ferguson, Essaoulenko threatened [Martin] Edwards and the United board decided to hurry the deal through.”
The threat, apparently, was Essaoulenko saying to Edwards, the then-chairman of United: “If you don’t sell him now, you will not be around much longer.” The Independent‘s Steve Boggan, a week after Ferguson’s autobiography release in August 1999, wrote that Edwards perceived Essaoulenko’s words to be a genuine threat to his life.
There could be no hesitation about Kanchelskis. “His pace and strength on the wing had been huge assets for us while he showing real enthusiasm for our cause,” Ferguson wrote. “But, given the transformation that had occurred in his behaviour, Merseyside was welcome to him.”
Ferguson responds to Rooney’s ‘other’ demands, 2006:
When Wayne Rooney has a bad game, the usual response is that he’s carrying a bit of holiday weight. Sir Alex Ferguson is just as blunt it seems. Beating Celtic in a Champions League group stage game in 2006/07 was a must if Manchester United wanted to progress sooner, but instead they contrived to lose 1-0. A below-par Rooney, in the middle of contract negotiations, was one of the players singled out by an angry Ferguson according to the player himself in his autobiography My Decade: “Players wanting more money from the club and new deals – you don’t deserve anything after that performance!” And his manager came down hard; Rooney had to make do with a feeble £100,000-a-week, and another four years — at least — at Manchester United.
Manchester United players enjoy burgers, 2008
In Alex Ferguson’s earlier years as a football manager, he held the belief that what his players ate before a game was “as important as what happens during the game.” Now, thanks to “advances in sports science and the expert nutritionists we have here at Carrington,” he told The Sun in 2012, he no longer has to worry about any of that. All very good. Except, perhaps those experts aren’t entirely devoid of any flaws, and are maybe prone to the odd oversight.
Gerard Pique has a lot of nice things to say about Manchester United but, for him, the diet was ‘outrageous’. “Everyone ate whatever they wanted to eat and when you think about the typical English diet, you can imagine what I am talking about,” Pique would say in 2008 as a Barcelona player, probably stick-thin by then. “Every fifteen days they would put us on what we dubbed the ‘spare-tyre machine’ to measure our body fat. You would be amazed at how many top players practically broke the machine because their diet was based on beer and burgers.”
‘Amazed’ would be an interesting choice of word for some.
Not just Ruud, but selfish, 2001-06
There is an idea that Ruud van Nistelrooy was moved on because the game had changed, and Manchester United needed a player with all-round capabilities. Nonsense! It soon became clear that he didn’t just stop being good when he later played for Real Madrid. He was injured for a lot of his time there, of course, but still scored goals at much the same rate he did in a red shirt. Sir Alex Ferguson wasn’t stupid, even if he did go on record once to say that Van Nistelrooy could do more to improve his game. He left because of who he was, what he did and what he said. He was unhappy and had to leave; the belief, tedious but true, that no player is bigger than the club perhaps ruled here, just like it had done with a discontent Roy Keane a year previous, in 2005.
Before anything, the player we know. He was a goalscorer, above everything else. Like others fortunate enough to have been called the same, to score was Van Nistelrooy’s primary concern; he appeared not to be preoccupied with much else on the field if he was one of the names to feature on the score-sheet. Few wanted it any other way. Louis Saha, his former strike partner and one-time enemy, put it best in his autobiography: “Ruud was the most selfish goalscorer. But a goalscorer needs to be selfish, to be obsessed by scoring. Ruud was a killer. Like [Filippo] Inzaghi or [David] Trezeguet. Obsessed.” Ferguson agreed with the idea of man ‘obsessed’ with adding to goal tally; when the striker was going through a difficult spell during the 2004/05 season, he would become “angry with himself,” according to his manager, that by not scoring, he thinks “he is not contributing.” It’s accepted on the whole, however, that a selfish Van Nistelrooy was a good Van Nistelrooy.
Nobody talks about it now, or had ever really talked about it, but one of Van Nistelrooy’s great, actually-selfless performances came at Old Trafford against Real Madrid in 2003 in a game that had essentially been a lost cause when the world’s best forward player, the Brazilian Ronaldo, had been in the form that he was. In the first leg at the Bernabeu, Van Nistelrooy scored a typical poacher’s goal; and then again in the second. But where the first game, a 3-1 defeat, saw Van Nistelrooy largely isolated due to United’s cold feet, the second saw the Dutchman in his element, all a result of the desperate situation that had presented itself.
United could not waste time, and badly needed their key man to be involved. Indeed, Van Nistelrooy was ever-present, except it was mostly outside the box where a lot of his good work had been done. It was a night where he was able to liberate himself and banish the poacher tag — temporarily, but still — constantly harassing, tackling, passing, creating; basically, what the coaches from far-away lands call “getting stuck in”. There was a moment where he picked up the ball on the right-hand side, feigned a kick to cruise past a dumbfounded Ivan Helguera, shifted away from Roberto Carlos and then hit the ball hard at Iker Casillas who could only bat it away. It was a sequence that suggested Van Nistelrooy still believed the tie was winnable, all the weight on his droopy shoulders as he tried to lead the team. From a Manchester United perspective, David Beckham’s cameo in that game is most remembered, and that’s expected. Van Nistelrooy would always receive less credit than he had deserved for some of the other things he could do, but to play like had here, to this extent, was rare. This was a great one-off.
There was another kind of selfishness, an altogether uglier one, that possibly contributed to the Dutchman’s eventual departure. It’s funny, but considerably more tragic, to think that what had ultimately finished off Van Nistelrooy was his mistake in thinking aloud when he had that training ground bust-up with Cristiano Ronaldo (as discussed in Envy), the day before the final game in his final season against Charlton Athletic. There, the story goes, egos clashed and Van Nistelrooy apparently asked him why he seldom passed, especially when he’s the striker. Ronaldo’s own selfishness was noted but celebrated by this time; and celebrated enough for Sir Alex to pick his favourite.
Months earlier, Van Nistelrooy was left out of the Carling Cup final. United had beaten Wigan Athletic 4-0 and Saha, the man that had taken his place, would score the all-important second goal. Ferguson reasoned that Saha deserved to start because of form, but how Van Nistelrooy felt about this we can only guess. Those body language experts deduced that he wasn’t taking it very well, and Daniel Taylor wrote in the immediate aftermath for The Guardian that the winners’ medal he received was, in no time, “stuffed into his pocket.”
“In Eamon Dunphy’s Only A Game he recalls being made a substitute at Millwall and sitting on the bench wishing bitter misfortune on his replacement, secretly hoping that his own team would be thrashed,” wrote Taylor. “Even if he would never admit it, Van Nistelrooy has made a career out of that kind of selfishness. How must he have felt as Saha bundled in Gary Neville’s cross to continue his goal-a-round record: euphoria or resentment? Only the naïve would presume it was the former. Footballers, or the vast majority of them anyway, think of themselves first and the team a distant second.”
This is not presented as fact; yet it’s not at all out of place in what (though little) we know about Van Nistelrooy. If he really did tell Ronaldo to “go running to your dad” (Carlos Queiroz), does this suggest that here was a man that realised he was no longer the team’s most important player as his goal record probably demanded and, crucially, no longer as indispensable as he suspected? To drive home three hours before a game, the season’s last, suggested that all illusions had finally been shattered.
Manchester United 2-3 Real Madrid (agg: 2-3), 19.04.2000
The best goals are typically those that can be looked back on fondly; naturally, then, they have to be in a winning context. This one isn’t that. It’s an exception to the rule — my rule — that goals have to mean something.
It could be argued that it wasn’t a completely meaningless goal, even it did happen with Manchester United 3-0 down (at home in a game they were expected to win). Indeed, David Beckham’s strike had appeared to reinvigorate United at the time, and was perhaps one that would inspire the side to another late, famous rally. But, then again, they needed three more because of the away goal rule. And they managed just the one, a Paul Scholes penalty just before the clock struck ninety.
In isolating the goal, regardless of the result, it is clearly a very good one. But again, a goal needs something around it for it to resonate; just look at what placed 40th on an ITV show on the greatest Champions League goals: Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s ’99 final winner against Bayern Munich. That one was going to be special before it was even scored, no matter how it was scored. What does this mean for Beckham’s goal, then? No context, no nothing. Not important.
Except, maybe not. “The thing that was always said about David Beckham was that he couldn’t beat a man,” said Clive Tyldesley, as he introduced the show’s number 47. “Well, he beat a couple there.” It was a goal that was so unconventional, so surprising that it was oddly amusing, because it had come from Beckham, a player often accused of being fairly one-dimensional. George Best probably agreed with that, in typically Best-like fashion: “Beckham can’t kick with his left foot, doesn’t score many goals, can’t head a ball and can’t tackle. Apart from that, he’s all right.”
A proper, damning criticism of Beckham came weeks before the Old Trafford game, in the aftermath of the 0-0 draw in Real Madrid’s home leg, where the defending champions no longer looked a team to be feared. Roberto Carlos was most disappointed by United, calling them “just another team”. He didn’t see much in Beckham, either. “Against Real Sociedad, I had to face [Ricardo] Sa Pinto, who came at me one-on-one and put crosses in,” Carlos started. “But against Manchester United I had Beckham, who comes from centre-field and tries to cross, but he is not a player with speed or real ability and you seldom have to face him in one-on-one situations.” It would have been wonderful for United to have won that game and Beckham to score the goal that he did. It’s funny, but could have been infinitely funnier had the reds turned up, to think Carlos had been made to look most pathetic by the player he seldom faced in one-on-one situations.
Picking up a Scholes pass, Beckham looked up, saw a charging Carlos — and just eased past him. Beckham didn’t take a breather; he glided past Carlos’ Brazilian counterpart Savio, moved away from the approaching Aitor Karanka and smashed the ball hard into the top right-hand corner past Iker Casillas, who, for 154 minutes of the tie, looked nothing like what an 18-year-old goalkeeper should do. The finish would have made a fine goal in itself.
Carlos’ poked tongue at Beckham was nothing new around this time, especially with all the post-France ’98 revisionism, even though this moment fell not long after Beckham had the boast of being the world’s second best player, after Rivaldo, as those that voted in 1999’s Ballon d’Or agreed. Indeed, Carlos was quick to change his tune when Beckham joined his club a few years later, describing him as an “excellent player” that would soon “end all the rumours saying he is only an advertisement boy.” For the initial jibe, read: mind games. And as much a nothing concept as ‘mind games’ is, Carlos must have believed it, because he was unfortunately right. For over an hour with United trailing 3-0, Beckham could barely impose himself in the game. But, even still, that goal. It was pretty good (and one that surely would not have been scored had the game not gone from the hosts).
All of this, and it could just be that Beckham’s great moment wasn’t even the game’s best. Raul’s second, Madrid’s third, hasn’t even been mentioned yet. But everyone knows of Fernando Redondo’s 40 yard run, nonchalant flick through Henning Berg’s legs, then the manner in which he accelerated to the byline with a pass to Raul to seal it off.
It seems strange to say so now, but what Beckham did was surprising even in a game where Redondo did that; at the time, there seemed to be something romantic about Argentine and Brazilian players in Europe — they had an altogether fresh approach, and those that played for the top clubs played with an air of superiority and Redondo was one of them. He was one of those players we see these days as cool to like because, why not? Everything Redondo did seemed natural (far more expressive than your typical ‘defensive-midfielder’), while Beckham’s was just — not very Beckham.
The Redondo-Raul goal will forever be remembered, but Beckham’s own effort at least warrants a passing mention.
“Everyone’s quite fond of the trier,” says the handsome hero in that film. “But, in the end, they prefer the guy that finds success … the one that actually gets there. I mean, look at me. I’m the handsome hero in this film.” This is an actual quote from a film with a handsome guy. “People forget,” he continues. “They forget. Not you, not what you did but how you did.” And these words ring true even in contrived film scripts or introductions.
Nothing’s changed #1: Danny Welbeck might never be the hero. He’s handsome, of course, but not the other thing. Welbeck’s place in the squad is secure, at least for now — indeed, it would be when he’s playing well — but he might be another addition to an unfortunate, and unfortunately existing, group of Manchester United players who have to do extraordinary amounts to change perceptions. Rafael da Silva and Jonny Evans have tried to break free with considerable success; but, even still, one remains, to some, a liability that cannot do the impossible task of balancing defence and attack, and the other, despite being described as perhaps “the best defender in the country” by his own manager, is still deemed a weaker alternative to many others. It shouldn’t matter what people think, except it doesn’t feel right when obvious talent isn’t complemented by reputation. And the reason why it matters more in Welbeck’s case than Evans or Rafael is that, actually, there is a small chance of not enough obvious movement in a bid to change what is perceived.
What’s stopping Welbeck is the thing that will at one point worry every forward that’s ever existed — a lack of goals. For Welbeck, it might go further than that: sometimes his decision-making isn’t great, and that means that the wrong pass is found, or that he’s too selfish, or selfless. Making decisions might even determine how many goals he has scored, or hasn’t scored. This is arguably too elaborate a criticism, but Welbeck constantly finds the ball in some glorious positions, or with others in glorious positions, and so it feels as if more can be done.
But that’s only sometimes. And those are the bad things. When Welbeck plays, it is reassuring that even if he were to do the bad things, he can do plenty good, too. He creates relationships; last season it was with Wayne Rooney, and now there’s potential with Robin van Persie as we’ve seen in United’s last two games against Liverpool and Tottenham. His Man of the Match performance against Liverpool (ask Gary Neville) was enough to keep Rooney on the bench for the visit to White Hart Lane, and he was able to have a similar impact in this game. However, players’ worth is weighed by the things that are naturally visible to us; so it is Cleverley — though not wrongly — who will be credited for setting up Van Persie’s opener, and not Welbeck, who showed great initiative to hold up the ball, run a few yards to find Cleverley that changed the direction of the attack in United’s favour.
To briefly re-visit the point about being in ‘glorious positions’: whilst he might not always make full use of where he is, to get there in the first place is surely impressive. He’s ubiquitous, night-shift relief for those that need it because he’s so energetic and because his talents transcend. And then there’s more: he is nifty, and the ball stays with him like a magnet smothered with kisses of pritt-stick. He has power and batters his way through small gaps and big bodies with the ease of a man simply typing words, all at great speed. If he’s not a hero, he’s hero material.
Invariably, all Welbeck apologia goes back to the fact that he is still young enough to refine his game, and that there is still time; this is all, importantly, very true no matter how many times it’s said. Welbeck is still young enough to refine his game. And there is still time. Welbeck is still young enough to refine his game and … repeat.
But, pause. He’s also extremely useful right now.
Nothing’s changed #2: Robin van Persie. He’s still very good.
Nothing’s changed #3: There is probably no coincidence that United have conceded less goals of late with the return of defensive golem Nemanja Vidic. Like Rio Ferdinand, he might be going grey, but, for at least 89 minutes on Sunday, the pairing evoked memories of a time not-so-long-ago where the idea of “they’ll score, but we’ll score more” would likely be met with thick and fierce growly growls. Both were difficult to get past, as demonstrated by Ferdinand’s excellent last-ditch tackle to prevent Jermain Defoe from scoring an equaliser at 1-0. Behind the scenes, United are building a Ferdinand and Vidic for the future in the shape of Evans and Chris Smalling, and though both are good enough now, the originals can’t do much wrong until then. If fit, expect Sir Alex Ferguson to retain them as first choice.
Nothing’s changed #4: What is perhaps the best thing about Tom Cleverley doing so well in a Manchester United shirt is the fact that he picked up an injury last season at a time where he was performing just as well. He has not been perfect, but then again he doesn’t have to be — as it stands, for a second year running, he has met and exceeded all expectations. (It probably should be said that it was Cleverley that crossed for the goal, delivering something of a Beckham ball.) To play well, a central midfielder needs a good partner. In 2011/12, just briefly, it was Anderson. Now it’s Michael Carrick. The remarkable thing about Cleverley is that he seems to work with just about any partner. Paul Scholes and Ryan Giggs and whoever he’s played alongside for England. Carrick, meanwhile, appears to enjoy working with him, too. In an interview with the Sunday Times, Carrick says Cleverley is “different to me, but we complement each other well.” The two, one the would-be hero, the other a belated hero, had welcomed a third midfield player for Spurs: Phil Jones.
One thing the midfield has undoubtedly lacked this season is defensive security, as well as some good old gurns, and Jones gave it to them. It was a shame, then, that Dempsey had scored and it came in the manner that it did, with a multitude of errors in the box. A Tottenham fightback was inevitable, but United had done well, until stoppage time, to keep them out.
Nothing’s changed #5: There are always two very vocal groups whenever David de Gea is in the news; the ones that staunchly defend him and are willing to give him a free pass in just about anything, and those that take joy in pointing out his flaws when the opportunity presents itself, but ignore all the good bits (bit like Welbeck, then), even when they’re more frequent. The truth, at least what appears to be the truth, is that De Gea needed a stronger punch in the lead up to Clint Dempsey’s 90th minute leveller and is therefore partly culpable. But, when ignoring that rather big blemish, the Spaniard was superb yet again. But good luck finding a consensus on it.