Ally
Active Member
Alex Ferguson - “Ronaldo, he’s number one. You can’t legislate for people like that.”
That, unfortunately, is your job mate. Tonight was a surreal exercise in turn based football, an NBA-esque style involving a “you attack us and we’ll attack you” attitude. Which isn’t what you expect. This was a friendly with slightly more at stake, and it made for pulsating watching. Zidane was off his game. Figo hardly touched the ball. Gutti was anonymous. But still, because of one man, Real Madrid were able to leave Old Trafford with something to spare. Sure, there may have been the vaguest hint of hysteria as the minutes slowly ticked away and United started to get control, but class will out. And it did.
The first leg should go down in history as one of the finest team performances of all time, joining earlier Real against Eintacht Frankfurt, Brazil against Italy in 1970 and, dare I say it, Arsenal against Manchester United in the FA Cup on February 15th? And anybody with any sense knew the tie was over on Thursday morning - Nistelrooy’s away goal merely a carrot, tantalising for the **** fans but deceptively out of reach.
Real thrive on this pressure. They play in front of eighty thousand people every other week, so sixty-five at Old Trafford is child’s play, people to be taunted while their team is ripped apart with no regard for their dignity, pride or aspirations. Simply, Real Madrid are the best team of all time. We’re always reluctant to place modern achievements in the same bracket as the classics, possibly because of some fear of being accused of over-reaction or scorned for devaluing the “true” greatest goals, passes, tackles, saves....We don’t tend to realise that, despite what old crusties might dispute, this is the golden age of football. Obscene wages? “Commercialism”? Money, not traditional values? Yes. But oh, what benefits.
Take two examples - Bergkamp’s flick and THAT save. If the former had been executed by Stan Matthews, Kevin Keegan, George Best et al, grand-dads would be telling their grandchildren bedtime stories involving outrageous hyperbole of how they were there to witness it, how the scorer had run nonchalantly back to the centre circle without even celebrating, and how he had never been booked in his entire career, etc. etc.
THAT save - well, Banks from Pele runs it close (Simply because it’s astonishing), but I’ve never seen better than Big Dave’s effort. Most were hesitant to rank it higher than the England keeper 30 years ago, because there’s some stigma which accompanies the upstaging of acknowledged masterpieces of footballing ability. Will Seaman’s save be held in higher regard retrospectively, in ten, twenty, thirty years time? Or will it be laughed off as something that you’d see at most matches every weekend, as Moore’s tackle on Pele has? (It ain’t that good. Really, it isn’t.). Alternatively, these incidents could simply be forgotten altogether. How on earth, how on earth, does Jairzinho’s goal in the very same game never get any mention? A sublimely crafted, wonderfully executed move to win the game, and nobody gives it a second glance. Stubbornness? Arrogance on the part of the English media? A subconscious unwillingness to credit moments of genius that weren’t executed by “good ol’, home grown talent”? Henry’s flick up and volley against the red s*ite is greeted with head-shaking and comments along the lines of “My god, unbelievable, what a goal”, usually because the person watching hasn’t seen it before. Beckhams’ 50-yarder against Wimbledon is, conversely, virtually part of British culture. There’s no question which is more technically accomplished - both moments of wonder, once-in-a-lifetime occurrences, but one is better than the other.
Back to Real. A team featuring Figo, Zidance, Raul and Ronaldo is coming very close to taking the piss, but when two of them don't perform and one other is injured at short notice, you do need someone to stand up. Oh, wait. There’s one player left from that list.
Ronaldo isn’t as prolific as he was, but the hideous cliche of big players bettering themselves for big matches is unfortunately very potent (Insofar as Clive Tyldsley is going to refuse to stop using it), and one immaculate hat-trick later, Manchester United were on their knees, and no amount of half-hearted rallies were going to change that. What was being touted around prior to kick-off was United’s “fighting qualities”, how they would “get stuck in” and so on and so forth. Insular. Insular, ridiculous and stubborn.
On a basic level, Manchester United could not hope to match Real Madrid on a technical level. Neither can we, Newcastle, Chelsea, Liverpool etc., but that’s not the point. We didn’t have to play them. Look at the way Real keep the ball. It’s staggering, and when we first saw it in the Bernabeau, we found it hard to believe what was going on - it’s not so much the mastery of the technique required to control a football, it’s how simple it all looks. Zidane in the first leg was toying, just toying, with Beckham. Real don’t consider reputation, name or face. They just play their game. They’re not affected by deafening noise, pressure, booing, abuse, whatever. They’re footballing machines, each and every one. And it frightens me. At least it will frighten me if we ever have to face them. As it was, I was sitting back with a packet of crunch creams and savouring every single minute.
Ronaldo’s three goals represent what a complete frontman should be. First, a shot first time at a horrible angle, which was controlled, not snatched, guided to a bullseye on the near post which was the only spot where the ball was going to beat Barthez. Second, instinctive positioning for a cut-back which made the tap-in easy. Third, a stunning thump from distance which howled past the baldy frenchman in goal - this was controlled too. This wasn’t a blind hit leaning back which was destined to balloon over the crossbar. This was travelling at the speed of sound, but was a lovely, relaxed hammer which floated into the corner - a good comparison is Vieira against Newcastle in 1998. As a complete frontman, van Nistelrooy ends up looking a bit sorry. Since he came as a shameless goal poacher, he’s developed energy and drive, but he can never hope to touch the diversity of Henry, the power of Vieri the amazing reactions of Raul. His goal was of course a tap-in, but the reliance on him is frightening. If he’s ever injured on a long-term basis, Manchester United will have serious problems that they won’t be able to solve. It’s Ferguson’s choice to operate in this manner. He can consider Diego Forlan a reliable deputy if he so desires.
But contrast this with Madrid. Their success is at a heavy financial cost. They had to sell their own training ground as a result of over-enthusiastic bounding around in the transfer market with minimal regard for the bigger picture. It’s a highly risky and extrovert approach, but when the results become apparent, you hold your hands up. Combined with a youth policy that came out with quite outstanding products (Raul and Zamorano taking top prizes from quality control), and you’ve got a squad whereby Morientes can’t get a game. Which says more than anything else I can think of just now.
As I said at the start, Ferguson claimed that you simply can’t make allowances for class. I’d disagree. You can’t make allowances for individual moments of class. Defenders can’t be expected to anticipate and take action against split-second, isolated instances of brilliance. It could be Ayala or Traore, Nesta or Stepanovs, but when a striker pulls out a trick, a never to be repeated flick, a feint that leaves you on your backside, there’s no responsibility to be allocated to anyone on the team on the receiving end. However, when Ronaldo runs you ragged from minute one to the time he’s substituted (When the Manchester fans game him a standing ovation, and every credit to them), I’ll venture the opinion that there damn well was something that could have been done - as a lone striker, with Zidane in behind, you have two centre backs who must make it their absolute priority to either mark Ronaldo out of the game or ensure that a flawless offside trap is going on. Neither were much in evidence tonight. Ferdinand on the first goal was trying to stick on the Brazilian, oblivious that everyone else had stepped out. The second from a defensive point of view was a shambles, no matter how many incisive passes were supplied to split the back line. The third - no blame. Everyone has a weakness. Man Utd’s is their defence. Arsenal weren’t knocked out because of Wiltord’s pissing around on the far touchline in the Mestalla - we were eliminated because we couldn’t score goals against brilliant individual defenders who were also a bit useful at man marking and closing down.
Manchester United have one apallingly over-rated thirty million quid signing who was snatched up on the back of a decent world cup (Uh-uh). He can tackle and he has presence, but he’s got no concentration or consistency and yet remains free of criticism. Wes Brown is a good young player, but no more at present. Laurent Blanc is a joke. A very, very funny joke. That’s where Man Utd can be punished, because they’re deadly everywhere else. But Real? Their weakness is their tendency to over-rely on gorgeous passing, fluid movement and bewildering flashes of skill. Which is also their strength. Which makes it hard to know what on earth to do when you’ve been asked to face them when 3-1 down on aggregate.
Man Utd perhaps have themselves to blame for failing to deal with Ronaldo. Not failing to deal with him properly, failing to deal with him at all. Perhaps Ferguson’s comments on Raul’s ability had relaxed them somewhat. Perhaps they thought tonight was going to be easier without the Champions League’s best player. And perhaps Real Madrid are on a different footballing planet.
Ferguson is to blame for a portion of the result. But that said, how can you legislate for brilliance? That is, a brilliant team from the toes of the keeper to the hair of the strikers. The obvious and simple answer is that you can’t. Real Madrid are awesome. Their football is awesome. They are the greatest team ever put together on a football pitch. And if we draw them next season, I am going to run away.
Ally Winford
That, unfortunately, is your job mate. Tonight was a surreal exercise in turn based football, an NBA-esque style involving a “you attack us and we’ll attack you” attitude. Which isn’t what you expect. This was a friendly with slightly more at stake, and it made for pulsating watching. Zidane was off his game. Figo hardly touched the ball. Gutti was anonymous. But still, because of one man, Real Madrid were able to leave Old Trafford with something to spare. Sure, there may have been the vaguest hint of hysteria as the minutes slowly ticked away and United started to get control, but class will out. And it did.
The first leg should go down in history as one of the finest team performances of all time, joining earlier Real against Eintacht Frankfurt, Brazil against Italy in 1970 and, dare I say it, Arsenal against Manchester United in the FA Cup on February 15th? And anybody with any sense knew the tie was over on Thursday morning - Nistelrooy’s away goal merely a carrot, tantalising for the **** fans but deceptively out of reach.
Real thrive on this pressure. They play in front of eighty thousand people every other week, so sixty-five at Old Trafford is child’s play, people to be taunted while their team is ripped apart with no regard for their dignity, pride or aspirations. Simply, Real Madrid are the best team of all time. We’re always reluctant to place modern achievements in the same bracket as the classics, possibly because of some fear of being accused of over-reaction or scorned for devaluing the “true” greatest goals, passes, tackles, saves....We don’t tend to realise that, despite what old crusties might dispute, this is the golden age of football. Obscene wages? “Commercialism”? Money, not traditional values? Yes. But oh, what benefits.
Take two examples - Bergkamp’s flick and THAT save. If the former had been executed by Stan Matthews, Kevin Keegan, George Best et al, grand-dads would be telling their grandchildren bedtime stories involving outrageous hyperbole of how they were there to witness it, how the scorer had run nonchalantly back to the centre circle without even celebrating, and how he had never been booked in his entire career, etc. etc.
THAT save - well, Banks from Pele runs it close (Simply because it’s astonishing), but I’ve never seen better than Big Dave’s effort. Most were hesitant to rank it higher than the England keeper 30 years ago, because there’s some stigma which accompanies the upstaging of acknowledged masterpieces of footballing ability. Will Seaman’s save be held in higher regard retrospectively, in ten, twenty, thirty years time? Or will it be laughed off as something that you’d see at most matches every weekend, as Moore’s tackle on Pele has? (It ain’t that good. Really, it isn’t.). Alternatively, these incidents could simply be forgotten altogether. How on earth, how on earth, does Jairzinho’s goal in the very same game never get any mention? A sublimely crafted, wonderfully executed move to win the game, and nobody gives it a second glance. Stubbornness? Arrogance on the part of the English media? A subconscious unwillingness to credit moments of genius that weren’t executed by “good ol’, home grown talent”? Henry’s flick up and volley against the red s*ite is greeted with head-shaking and comments along the lines of “My god, unbelievable, what a goal”, usually because the person watching hasn’t seen it before. Beckhams’ 50-yarder against Wimbledon is, conversely, virtually part of British culture. There’s no question which is more technically accomplished - both moments of wonder, once-in-a-lifetime occurrences, but one is better than the other.
Back to Real. A team featuring Figo, Zidance, Raul and Ronaldo is coming very close to taking the piss, but when two of them don't perform and one other is injured at short notice, you do need someone to stand up. Oh, wait. There’s one player left from that list.
Ronaldo isn’t as prolific as he was, but the hideous cliche of big players bettering themselves for big matches is unfortunately very potent (Insofar as Clive Tyldsley is going to refuse to stop using it), and one immaculate hat-trick later, Manchester United were on their knees, and no amount of half-hearted rallies were going to change that. What was being touted around prior to kick-off was United’s “fighting qualities”, how they would “get stuck in” and so on and so forth. Insular. Insular, ridiculous and stubborn.
On a basic level, Manchester United could not hope to match Real Madrid on a technical level. Neither can we, Newcastle, Chelsea, Liverpool etc., but that’s not the point. We didn’t have to play them. Look at the way Real keep the ball. It’s staggering, and when we first saw it in the Bernabeau, we found it hard to believe what was going on - it’s not so much the mastery of the technique required to control a football, it’s how simple it all looks. Zidane in the first leg was toying, just toying, with Beckham. Real don’t consider reputation, name or face. They just play their game. They’re not affected by deafening noise, pressure, booing, abuse, whatever. They’re footballing machines, each and every one. And it frightens me. At least it will frighten me if we ever have to face them. As it was, I was sitting back with a packet of crunch creams and savouring every single minute.
Ronaldo’s three goals represent what a complete frontman should be. First, a shot first time at a horrible angle, which was controlled, not snatched, guided to a bullseye on the near post which was the only spot where the ball was going to beat Barthez. Second, instinctive positioning for a cut-back which made the tap-in easy. Third, a stunning thump from distance which howled past the baldy frenchman in goal - this was controlled too. This wasn’t a blind hit leaning back which was destined to balloon over the crossbar. This was travelling at the speed of sound, but was a lovely, relaxed hammer which floated into the corner - a good comparison is Vieira against Newcastle in 1998. As a complete frontman, van Nistelrooy ends up looking a bit sorry. Since he came as a shameless goal poacher, he’s developed energy and drive, but he can never hope to touch the diversity of Henry, the power of Vieri the amazing reactions of Raul. His goal was of course a tap-in, but the reliance on him is frightening. If he’s ever injured on a long-term basis, Manchester United will have serious problems that they won’t be able to solve. It’s Ferguson’s choice to operate in this manner. He can consider Diego Forlan a reliable deputy if he so desires.
But contrast this with Madrid. Their success is at a heavy financial cost. They had to sell their own training ground as a result of over-enthusiastic bounding around in the transfer market with minimal regard for the bigger picture. It’s a highly risky and extrovert approach, but when the results become apparent, you hold your hands up. Combined with a youth policy that came out with quite outstanding products (Raul and Zamorano taking top prizes from quality control), and you’ve got a squad whereby Morientes can’t get a game. Which says more than anything else I can think of just now.
As I said at the start, Ferguson claimed that you simply can’t make allowances for class. I’d disagree. You can’t make allowances for individual moments of class. Defenders can’t be expected to anticipate and take action against split-second, isolated instances of brilliance. It could be Ayala or Traore, Nesta or Stepanovs, but when a striker pulls out a trick, a never to be repeated flick, a feint that leaves you on your backside, there’s no responsibility to be allocated to anyone on the team on the receiving end. However, when Ronaldo runs you ragged from minute one to the time he’s substituted (When the Manchester fans game him a standing ovation, and every credit to them), I’ll venture the opinion that there damn well was something that could have been done - as a lone striker, with Zidane in behind, you have two centre backs who must make it their absolute priority to either mark Ronaldo out of the game or ensure that a flawless offside trap is going on. Neither were much in evidence tonight. Ferdinand on the first goal was trying to stick on the Brazilian, oblivious that everyone else had stepped out. The second from a defensive point of view was a shambles, no matter how many incisive passes were supplied to split the back line. The third - no blame. Everyone has a weakness. Man Utd’s is their defence. Arsenal weren’t knocked out because of Wiltord’s pissing around on the far touchline in the Mestalla - we were eliminated because we couldn’t score goals against brilliant individual defenders who were also a bit useful at man marking and closing down.
Manchester United have one apallingly over-rated thirty million quid signing who was snatched up on the back of a decent world cup (Uh-uh). He can tackle and he has presence, but he’s got no concentration or consistency and yet remains free of criticism. Wes Brown is a good young player, but no more at present. Laurent Blanc is a joke. A very, very funny joke. That’s where Man Utd can be punished, because they’re deadly everywhere else. But Real? Their weakness is their tendency to over-rely on gorgeous passing, fluid movement and bewildering flashes of skill. Which is also their strength. Which makes it hard to know what on earth to do when you’ve been asked to face them when 3-1 down on aggregate.
Man Utd perhaps have themselves to blame for failing to deal with Ronaldo. Not failing to deal with him properly, failing to deal with him at all. Perhaps Ferguson’s comments on Raul’s ability had relaxed them somewhat. Perhaps they thought tonight was going to be easier without the Champions League’s best player. And perhaps Real Madrid are on a different footballing planet.
Ferguson is to blame for a portion of the result. But that said, how can you legislate for brilliance? That is, a brilliant team from the toes of the keeper to the hair of the strikers. The obvious and simple answer is that you can’t. Real Madrid are awesome. Their football is awesome. They are the greatest team ever put together on a football pitch. And if we draw them next season, I am going to run away.
Ally Winford
