Goodbye, Sir Alexander Chapman Ferguson. Thank you.

For me, Manchester United and Sir Alex Ferguson are one and the same. The Scot was at the helm when, at the age of eleven, I completed my collection of Pro Set collector cards featuring the likes of Clayton Blackmore and Mal Donaghy and announced myself as a fully-fledged fan.

As Sky’s pumped-up Premier League allowed armchair football fanatics their greatest ever access to the game, my support for the club became an obsession. I distinctly remember watching a match with my dad and asking him why Bryan Robson was wearing an armband. “He’s the captain,” my old man responded – the first in a long line of inspirational figures deputised as Fergie’s leader on the pitch: Bruce, Cantona, Keane, Neville and Vidic.

This collection of snarling warriors emblemise everything Ferguson stands for: heart, spirit, courage and a never-say-die attitude which has rescued so many late goals for a club which refuses to admit defeat – the qualities which, allied with no little skill, have seen Manchester United dominate English football for more than twenty years.

Stamping his personality so clearly on his club has led to Ferguson being despised by many, and his run-ins with Kevin Keegan, Arsene Wenger and Rafa Benitez have been edged with a spitefulness which has occasionally gone too far. But this siege mentality was identified today, by fellow retiree Paul Scholes, as Fergie’s greatest strength. Who are we to argue with that?

Those who know him best, of course, point to an altogether different kind of character. Always available to offer advice to fellow managers, father figure to the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo and Ryan Giggs, devoted family man and, as the years have rolled by, an increasingly endearing character dancing his strange half-jig in the dugout.

My love and admiration for the man is intrinsically tied to my love for the club. I’ve never known one without the other. So many wonderful memories are tied to the club: obvious highlights like the Camp Nou comeback in 1999, Fergie and Brian Kidd leaping around as Steve Bruce headed two title-winning goals in 1993, Yorke and Cole combining beautifully against Barcelona. 

But it’s not just those glory nights which make Sir Alex Ferguson’s teams special. Rather, it’s that sense of comfort and security he offered. While other clubs chop and change, fight and fuss, Manchester United simply evolve. Wholesale tinkering is not the Ferguson way. Instead, he seamlessly integrated new players into his sides, marrying young local talent with experienced old timers, fancy foreigners with wise European campaigners. He built at least three great sides in this way: the powerhouses of Keane, Ince, Schmeichel and Hughes; the treble winning buccaneers; the 2008 vintage of Ronaldo and Rooney.

I can offer little more tribute than those which have already been paid. His emotional interview with his old pal Geoff Shreeves (“Well done, Geoff”) was a beautiful tribute to his patient wife Cathy, and yet another signifier of his strength of character: the decision was made at Christmas but was kept completely secret so as not to distract from the club’s title tilt.

He will remain at Old Trafford forever: cast in bronze, the stand bearing his name, his presence in the directors’ box. But more importantly he will remain in the supporters’ hearts, woven into the fabric of the great club he built, his name sung forever more on the Stretford End and his legacy enduring long after he is gone.

For what it’s worth, my favourite Fergie team would be picked on the basis of personality not ability and would consist of the following eleven players:

Schmeichel, Neville, Ferdinand, Vidic, Irwin, Ronaldo, Keane, Scholes, Giggs, Hughes, Cole.

Subs: Van Der Sar, Beckham, Evra, Carrick, Cantona, Sharpe, Solskjaer

What Next For England?

Having taken charge of Fabio Capello’s squad at short notice, what will the future hold for Roy Hodgson’s England team? Despite a respectable showing in Polkraine, the familiar failings which have blighted the national team were self-evident and the quarter-final exit depressingly familiar.

Thankfully, positives have been gleaned from the tournament. Hodgson has quickly begun to implement a defensive system and a selfless team ethic, the squad has been united and harmonious, Steven Gerrard performed magnificently as captain and players like Andy Carroll and Danny Welbeck adapted well to the international game.

Sadly, our familiar failings with regards to ball retention and passing played a huge role in our downfall. Rarely managing to string half-a-dozen passes together, there was never any hope of us troubling classy and cultured midfields like the Italians’ – let alone that of Spain or Germany. How desperately we missed the injured Jack Wilshere and the retired Michael Carrick. Thankfully there is hope in this area, with Wilshere to return and Tom Cleverley’s development to continue at Old Trafford.

In defence, however, changes seem likely. If the John Terry race-case doesn’t result in his international retirement, he really ought to be put out to pasture. One of England’s major failings on this tournament was their deep defensive line – a line designed specifically to protect Terry’s alarming lack of pace. Although he defended heroically, his presence altered the team shape, stretching the pitch and forcing Gerrard and Scott Parker to play too far from the forwards to create effective links. As a result, Ashley Young was starved of meaningful possession and failed to reproduce his sparkling pre-tournament form.

On the other flank, James Milner must surely have played his last game as an out-and-out wideman. Although he tramped diligently up and down the wing, he contributed nothing in an attacking sense, crossing woefully on the few occasions he worked an opening. England have options out wide in Adam Johnson, Theo Walcott and Aaron Lennon who, for all their shortcomings, are at least comfortable in the position.

And what of Wayne Rooney? Gone is the dynamic tyro of 2004, replaced by a player seemingly incapable of beating his man and shorn of pace. He has certainly adapted his game at Manchester United, no longer the explosive presence he once was. His steady supply of goals seems to have disguised the truth: he is not the player we all thought he would become. Clearly he should still be in the starting XI, but he shouldn’t be treated as untouchable and shouldn’t carry the burden of expectation as he has previously: if anything we looked better without him in the team against France and Sweden.

So, with a new qualification campaign on the horizon, we must trust that Hodgson can continue the team’s development. He’s already made it clear that the Euro 2012 squad was Capello’s team – the implication being that changes will be in the offing once has digested this summer’s football. Some of the squad will retire, others will be jettisoned or replaced. But Hodgson has done enough to suggest that, given a little time, he is the right man to incorporate the skill, composure and ability of Chris Smalling, Raheem Sterling, Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain and others into a team we can not only be proud of but also confident in.

New England Revolution

For a long time, I fell out of love with the England football team. As well as the obvious on-pitch disappointments, my three main bugbears were: the Football Association’s gross mismanagement of the national team, the unrealistic expectations of many England fans, and the destructive red-topped agenda against the manager-of-the-moment. Against the odds, however, Roy Hodgson’s Euro 2012 squad have rekindled my interest in the national team.

Let’s get one thing straight: the FA effed up royally and regularly in the last year. Amongst other errors, their embarrassing failure to ban John Terry would not have been tolerated in any other workplace and, directly or indirectly, led to the loss of a very decent manager. Then, the scandalously protracted process of appointing Capello’s successor destabilised Premier League clubs and presented the FA as a rudderless and indecisive ship. Confidence in England’s governing body had rarely been lower.

Then, much to Harry Redknapp’s surprise, they made a rare sensible and right-headed move: they appointed Roy Hodgson. Hodgson was the right man: an experienced tactician well versed in continental and international football who could oversee English football from the grassroots up. Surprisingly, the Fleet Street hacks who had all but anointed Redknapp as the new manager greeted Hodgson warmly and, by and large, threw their weight behind him. Far from kow-towing to the media, the FA had beaten its own path to Hodgson’s door – and the media respected them for it.

And with Hodgson’s appointment came more realistic expectations. After years of expensive Swedes and Italians managing the Premier League’s leading lights and shining stars, we had the reserved and dignified Hodgson offering realisitic appraisals of the England squad and promising to deliver tactically adept and disciplined teams picked on merit rather than reputation.

Almost unbelievably, the majority of fans bought into this ethos. Many had already become disillusioned with the England team thanks to the abject failure in South Africa and a feeling of being alienated by the ‘foreign manager’ and prima donna players who had let them down. The conclusive spanking handed out by Germany in Bloemfontein and the sparkling football employed by Spain in winning the World Cup seemed to finally convince England fans of a truth they’d previously not dared to acknowledge: the England team has a long way to go before it can truly compete with the top nations.

And so here we are. Many of the so-called ‘Golden Generation’ has been discarded. Down-to-earth, nice young men like Joe Hart and Danny Welbeck have shown that England footballers needn’t be snarling, petulant egotists. The manager has introduced a clear tactical model based on teamwork and togetherness. The team look like a team and the squad looks happy and harmonious. The fans have accepted that winning ugly is an acceptable form of triumph and that sometimes we cannot compete toe-to-toe with technically more accomplished nations. And, although their importance can be overstated, the print media have begun to reflect the prevailing attitude in the country rather than attempting to instigate witch-hunts and outrages.
A healthy balance has finally been struck: We can be optimistic without being over-confident and, should we fail to won the tournament, realistic rather than reactive about our failures. Being an England fan is starting to feel good again.

The Right Man For The Job?

Crikey! It’s not going to be ‘Arry after all.

It seems that the FA have made their decision, choosing affable old Roy Hodgson as the next England manager. It’s a brave move from both parties: the media will be circling like sharks in freshly chummed water, waiting for the slightest excuse to devour the new incumbent. Hodgson, meanwhile, knows full well that he is drinking from a poisoned chalice. After having his fingers burned by the media glare at Anfield, it’s only a matter of time before he’s thrust into the fire again.

Redknapp was nailed on for the job. Lauded by his friends in the press, wanted by the players and, the league table suggests, the best Englishman for the job. Leaving aside the absurd insistence that we have an English manager, was Redknapp really the best man for the job?

Redknapp’s managerial history is checkered at best. Despite being in his sixties he’s only ever won one trophy (the FA Cup with Portsmouth), has seen countless clubs go bankrupt in the aftermath of his stewardship, has managed to alienate excellent players like Darren Bent and has admitted his own tactical naivety.

In the wake of his court-case – in which he was cleared of wrongdoing, lest we forget – Redknapp has seen his Spurs team crumble atrociously. For this, the manager is largely accountable. Having abandoned the wing-play which characterised Tottenham’s surge up the table in favour of midfield tinkering, Gareth Bale’s newly minted license to wander and Aaron Lennon’s spell on the treatment table, one has to question his decision to allow Steven Pienaar to leave on loan. And having bemoaned the lack of depth in his squad recently, one can only point at players like Vedran Corluka, Roman Pavlyuchenko and Sebastian Bassong who left White Hart Lane in January.

Of course, similar accusations can be levelled at Hodgson following his woeful spell at Liverpool. His signings struggled hugely, his brand of football did little to appease the aesthetes of Anfield and his win percentage was awful. He was the wrong fit for the club: although Kenny Dalglish’s near identical record suggests that the Mersey malaise runs deeper than first feared.

Since his dismissal, however, Hodgson has reinvigorated his career at West Brom. His impact was
immediate, his record enviable, their brand of football easy on the eye. Allied with his excellent record at Fulham – not least in their successful Europa League campaign – Hodgson’s nightmare at Liverpool seems like a blip on an otherwise excellent CV. Spells in charge clubs across Europe – including Inter Milan – and in charge of several national teams give Hodgson’s candidacy for the role extra gravitas: he’s got more continental experience than anyone else in England. He also lives in the midlands, close to the FA’s new base at Burton – much closer than Harry’s pad on the south coast.

For too long, the FA has vacillated between two desires: do they want a worldly coach with impeccable credentials or an Englishman who can relate to the players. The alternating nature of their recent appointments reflects this perfectly: Hoddle/Eriksson/McClaren/Capello and now Hodgson. Except this time, he’s a man with a foot in both camps. He might not be the biggest name, he might not dispense soundbites outside the training ground and he might not excite the public – but for once, the FA might have actually got this right.

John Terry: Uber Prick

Just when you thought John Terry couldn’t sink any lower in football fans’ estimations...

With David Luiz out injured, Gary Cahill limping out of the action and Barcelona swarming all over the Chelsea rearguard, the west Londoners desperately needed a performance from their lion-hearted leader. What they got was a cowardly and unnecessary assault, a fully-deserved red card and Jose Boswinga filling in at centre back.

It was the latest in a long line of unsavoury and controversial incidents involving the deposed England captain, but the first which looked likely to cost his team on the pitch: for all the allegations of affairs, profiteering and racism, Terry has seldom abdicated his duties on the pitch.

Thankfully, his teammates rose admirably to the challenge of holding Messi, Xavi and Iniesta at bay. Petr Cech performed heroically, Didier Drogba worked his self into the ground and Frank Lampard worked intelligently with and without the ball. Chelsea’s star performer, however, was the energetic Ramires. The Brazilian played all over the pitch, defended diligently, broke forward whenever the opportunity arose and gave Chelsea hope with a deliciously chipped goal.

Sadly, the little livewire will miss the final thanks to the yellow card he picked up at Camp Nou. The same totting-up procedure will also ensure the absence of Raul Mereiles and Branislav Ivanovic. It’s a disciplinary procedure which UEFA ought to look long and hard at if it wants to ensure the competitions showpiece final parades the best available players, but that aside, it’s John Terry who’s ultimately responsible for the unavailability of those players in Munich.

Barcelona’s possession game is difficult enough to play with when there are eleven players on the pitch. Terry’s needless red card made it even harder, made sure that more tackles needed to be made, made sure that at times desperate challenges led to bookings. If Terry had remained on the pitch would all three of his colleagues have been cautioned? Probably not.

Whilst John Terry refuses to accept responsibility for his own actions (confirming both his cowardice and stupidity in the face of the evidence), Frank Lampard toed the party line in his post-match press conference by publicly supporting his captain and claiming not to have seen the incident. Hopefully behind the scenes he will give Terry the dressing down he deserves and Mereiles, Ramires and Ivanovic will cold-shoulder the man who denied them the opportunity to play in the biggest game of their lives

For English football’s sake it would be wonderful to see Chelsea win the Champions League – if only for the satisfaction of seeing the reprehensible John Terry watching from the sidelines in his suit.

Messi Makes Me Dribble

On Wednesday night, Lionel Messi became the first player to score five goals in a Champions League knockout game. He also completed his eight hat-trick of the season and notched his 47th goal of the campaign. There can no longer be any doubt that he is the greatest player in the world. There remains little doubt that he’s the greatest of all time. But of all his many qualities, which is it that marks him out as being ‘the one’?

Quite simply, Messi is the greatest ever dribbler of a football. Like his fellow Argentine, Diego Maradona, he possesses a low centre of gravity, is deceptively strong and has an exquisite first touch. Where he differs from Maradona, and everyone else, is in the way he runs with the ball.

Messi has very few tricks in his locker. No Cruyff turns. No Ronaldo-style step-overs. No lollipops, rabonas or seal dribbles. He has no need for such unnecessary embellishments. Instead, he relies on keeping the ball mere millimetres from his left foot. He doesn’t push the ball in feet front of himself and chase it. He rarely knocks it past an opponent before running around them and collecting it.

Rather than raw power or trickery, Messi relies on an almost magnetic ability to keep the ball attached to his toes. Allied with his amazingly quick feet, he’s able to twist, turn, feint and fool defenders with relatively simple movements. His touch is so perfect that he can simply nudge the ball wherever he wants it to go - tantalisingly out of reach of defenders. He cushions and caresses the ball until he decides to release it. His touch is so soft and so delicate that it’s often impossible to see exactly where and when he’s touched the ball. He weaves in and around the opposition, gliding across the turf: his mastery is almost magical.

And when Messi decides to pass or shoot, he does so quite unlike anyone else. He’s capable of smashing a shot into the top corner or rifling a pass into a teammate’s feet. But he rarely does. Instead he coaxes, cushions or chips the ball around the pitch as if he’s playing a different game to everyone else: one where points are awarded for artistry rather than goals.

Witness the numerous occasions Messi ghosts across a penalty area, the ball velcroed to his left boot. He skims across the surface, poised to capitalise on any slip or mistake. He lets defenders get as close to the ball as they like – his mastery means he can move it away from them at will. His perfect balance keeps him upright as others flounder and, then, just as he runs out of space he flicks his boot under the ball. It’s a barely imperceptible movement: crafty, quick, accurate. The ball teases the goalkeeper as it is dinked within inches of his despairing grasp - before nestling in the net. In England we still eulogise such goals by Georgie Kinkladze, Paolo Wanchope and Noel Whelan. At the Camp Nou, they happen every week.

The Inevitable Demise of AVB

You’ve got to wonder what exactly Roman Abramovich expects from his managers. Perhaps Jose Mourinho delivered too much, too soon – since capturing the Premier League title in his first season at Stamford Bridge, the Russian oligarch seems to demand such results every season.

The truth is that Mourinho over-achieved (in much the same way he did at Porto and Inter Milan) before leaving the club barely any better off than they were before his arrival. Mourinho is not a team-builder. He’s a short-termer who blasts his way into a club in a blaze of publicity, creates a siege mentality, draws the absolute best out of his players, spends loads of money and makes excellent tactical decisions.

What he doesn’t do is leave any kind of long-term legacy. Young players are often distrusted, flair players often marginalised. His powerful, pacy teams are not built to last. And when Abramovich tired of the Portuguese manager, he jettisoned him with no real thought as to who might build a team capable of putting together a sustained period of success.

As such, brief spells from Avram Grant, Luis Felipe Scolari, Guus Hiddink and Carlo Ancelotti have brought mixed fortunes – occasional league titles, Champions League Final appearances and FA Cup wins. But none have been given long enough to stamp their own authority on the team. None have shaped the squad as they would have liked. All but Hiddink have been sacked at great expense.

Finally, it seemed that the Russian owner had realised the error of his ways. Recognising the need abandon his short-termism he appointed a 33 year old built in Mourinho’s image. A thrusting young upstart from Porto was installed with a brief to break up his Portuguese predecessor’s old team and put together a side which would challenge for titles in the long term.

It simply hasn’t happened. Too many of Mourinho’s men retained too much power at Stamford Bridge for the young manager to make his mark. A cabal of senior players –many of them past their peak – remained undroppable in the eyes of themselves and their chairman. The creaking John Terry, shot Petr Cech and the slowing Ashley Cole are shadows of their former selves but are immune from criticism thanks to the internal politics of West London. Frank Lampard remains a valuable player but has become a sulker and a dissenting voice within the club – he need only look at Manchester United’s old guard to see how to handle being rested occasionally. Instead he has leaked his dissatisfaction to the press like a petulant child.

Up front, too, AVB struggled with hangovers from previous regimes. Didier Drogba, undoubtedly Mourinho’s man, was the least of these. He’s a player who always puts in a shift and has performed admirably this season. The manager’s biggest concern has been the £50m Spanish misfit foisted on him by Roman Abramovich. It seems that nobody other than the chairman particularly wanted Fernando Torres at the club – and his stuttering, misfiring, goal-free form has become a problem for AVB which he probably never wanted. Trying to accommodate the chairman’s vanity purchase has meant constantly reshuffling the strike force, forcing Juan Mata and Daniel Sturridge onto the peripheries.

Perhaps given time and with less interference from the meddling chairman (increasingly a presence on the training ground in recent weeks) might have given the manager more confidence to shape the team in his own image. Perhaps younger players like David Luiz, Oriel Romeu and Sturridge would have found their places in the team cemented rather than doubted. Perhaps AVB’s tactics might have become established and successful.

Of course, ultimately all managers are judged by their results. And Villas-Boas’ were woeful. But is it really his fault? Was he really allowed to implement his ideas fully? Was he offered the required support from those around him? Did the players ever really play for him? Why wasn't he given some room to make mistakes? We’ll never truly know the answers, but the suspicion is that he was well and truly hung out to dry.

And now Chelsea are back where they began. Only this time they have a weaker team, a more disjointed squad and an owner becoming increasingly impatient and trigger happy. There’s probably only one man who could unite this squad and inspire the fans: and he was house-hunting in London last weekend.

Dalglish's Dignity Destroyed

How long before we see football making headlines for what happens on the pitch? Yesterday Spurs hammered Newcastle, Norwich and Swansea served up an end-to-end goalfest and, almost unnoticed, Manchester United defeated their arch-rivals Liverpool with two strikes from the in-form Wayne Rooney. Sadly scandal and outrage have once more undermined the efforts of the players to entertain fans growing increasingly tired of seeing the game’s name dragged through the mud.

After weeks of racism, court cases, captaincy rows and red cards, the stage was set for Old Trafford to remind us why it is that football is known as the ‘beautiful game’. Instead, we were served up an ugly and undignified mess which looks set to prolong and exacerbate the mutual enmity between two of the Premier League’s biggest clubs.

All it would have taken was a gesture: a brief touch of flesh on flesh which might have doused the flames of this most combustible fixture. Instead, Luis Suarez’s immaturity ignited the tinderbox and his manager poured fuel on the flames.
Despite myopic Liverpool fans’ protestations there is only one person to blame for the non-handshake: Suarez. His decision to ignore Evra’s offered hand was immature, idiotic and, worse of all, premeditated. Certainly Kenny Dalglish, had seemed convinced the player would make the important gesture: Suarez knew otherwise and, in an instant, undermined his manager and his once-proud club.

Perhaps Dalglish’s fervent and misguided support of the player was inspired partly by embarrassment and anger at him – he certainly lost his cool in a way rarely seen from a man more usually associated with taciturn and monotone post-match interviews. Sadly his reaction was inevitable after the tunnel-visioned support he has offered his player throughout this whole farrago.

From the very outset, Dalglish has fostered a siege mentality which has seen Liverpool FC close ranks to protect their player. In the Scotsman’s eyes, the criticism of Suarez has become a witch-hunt – a media conspiracy propagated by Sky Sports News and designed to deliberately harm and hound his controversial striker. This view is utter nonsense, of course. Suarez is under such scrutiny thanks only to his profile, his behaviour and his refusal to apologise to a man he wronged.

Kenny Dalglish’s half-baked conspiracy theories hold absolutely no water. And he has absolutely no evidence to back them up. When the FA released the water-tight 115 page document proving Suarez to have racially abused Evra, Dalglish hinted that the full truth had not been heard. But he failed to provide the required evidence to prove Suarez’s innocence. And given the club’s utter conviction of his innocence it seems strange that they didn’t lodge any form of appeal.

Instead, we’ve seen ill-advised T-shirts in support of Suarez, heard Dalglish welcome Suarez back from his spell on the sidelines by insisting that “he should never have been out in the first place” and now, an absolutely astonishing post-match attack on Geoff Shreeves, Sky Sports and anyone who would listen. Daniel Taylor summed it up brilliantly in The Observer: “outraged by everything, ashamed of nothing”.

His strident defence of his player was shocking and appalling. Pleading ignorance of Suarez’s refusal of Evra’s hand was silly at best. But furiously suggesting that Shreeves was “bang out of order for blaming Luis Suarez for anything that happened here today” was absurd beyond belief. Seeing one of the game’s greats acting in such a manner was hugely embarrassing – not least because he missed an ideal opportunity to take the sting out of the situation. All Dalglish needed to do was point out that Suarez’s actions didn’t help the atmosphere and that he’d have a word with the player in private. Instead, he fanned the flames.

Admittedly, Manchester United were not blameless. Evra’s celebrations at the final whistle were clearly cathartic – a massive pressure relieved in front of his own fans – but were certainly over the top and hardly likely to calm the situation. Sir Alex Ferguson rightly criticised the left back.

The United manager did go over the top in his criticism of Suarez, however. Having kept his counsel for so long, he then exploded. He was clearly incensed by the striker’s conduct during the day but his suggestion that Suarez ought never play for Liverpool again was an area he ought to have kept his nose out of. Dalglish neither wants nor needs Ferguson’s attempts to destabilise Liverpool FC – he’s doing a good enough job all on his own.

Chelsea vs United: Minute by Minute

Teams:
Chelsea: Cech; Ivanovic, Luiz, Cahill, Boswinga; Mereiles, Essien, Malouda: Mata, Torres, Sturridge. Subs: Turnbull, Bertrand, Romeu, Hutchinson, Piazzon, Lukaku, Ferreira

Man Utd: De Gea; Rafael, Ferdinand, Evans, Evra; Valencia, Carrick, Giggs, Young; Rooney, Welbeck. Subs: Amos, Rafael, Park, Berbatov, Hernandez, Pogba, Scholes

Referee: Howard Webb

Prediction: Chelsea 0 Man Utd 2

Preamble:
With the notable exception of John Terry, everyone involved in this fixture will be breathing a sigh of relief that the deposed England captain misses out with a knee injury. For the second consecutive week a Terry/Ferdinand handshake had threatened to overshadow a huge and potentially combustible football fixture. Let’s hope that this week’s Premier League game is better than the damp squib at QPR last weekend where the most interesting things to happen were things which didn’t actually happen: a pointless pre-match pleasantry and a foul on Danny Sturridge.

Almost unbelievably, Chelsea are a point better off than at this stage last season with Juan Mata forging more goalscoring opportunities than anyone else in the top flight this season. With Drogba missing, Torres misfiring and Sturridge in the midst of a drought, Andreas Villas Boas will be desperately hoping someone in his side can capitalise on Mata’s creativity to trouble the shaky Spaniard David De Gea.

United boast the best away record in the league but have been appalling in league fixtures at Stamford Bridge in recent years. They’ll be hoping that the return of their injured troops can spark the beginning of a run which might see them depose their city rivals at the top of the table. Valencia, with nine assists in nine games will relish the opportunity to test Chelsea’s stand-in left back, Boswinga. On the opposite flank, Ashley Young will hope to return to his early-season form after his return from injury.

15:26pm
It’s all over at the Sports Direct Arena (it actually hurts my fingers to type that) where the always entertaining Toon Army prevailed 2-1 against an Aston Villa who were far less turgid than anyone expected. Against his old club, Charles N’Zogbia teed up Robbie Keane for a cracker and Demba Ba scored on his return from the Cup of Nations. But it was the Senegalese debutante, Papisse Demba Cisse, who stole the show with a belter welted into the top corner with his left peg. A superb strike from the Magpies’ new number nine.

15:45pm
United might never get a better opportunity to flex their Mancunian muscles at The Bridge. With Chelsea’s trio of England stalwarts missing through injury and suspension, the Blues actually look weaker than an injury ravaged United - who welcome back Young and Rooney but lose Smalling (who along with Jones, Rafael, Fabio, Anderson et al) seems incapable of putting a run of back-to-back games together).

Expect the Red Devils to pour forward down the flanks in an attempt to expose Chelsea’s out-of-position fullbacks – and their new central defensive partnership of Sideshow Bob and Gary Cahil. Chelsea will aim to outnumber Fergie’s side in the centre of midfield and run the legs of 87 year old Ryan Giggs. Given that one of Chelsea’s central three is Florent Malouda, this could be a tall order.

15:55pm
Alan Smith is anticipating Juan Mata lining up in the hole behind Fernando Torres. It’ll be interesting to see exactly how Chelsea shape up. United like a traditional Fergie 4-4-2 formation.

16:00pm
We’re away with United kicking off and playing from left to right. Both sides give the ball away several times in the first twenty seconds.

1min
Evra is upended on the left corner of the Chelsea eighteen yard box – from the free-kick Rooney gets an early sighter of Cech’s goal. He doesn’t trouble the keeper.

2mins
Is Cech’s scrum-cap a necessity or an affectation?

4mins
Rio Ferdinand is being booed by the Stamford Bridge faithful. Presumably this is because his brother has allegedly been racially abused by a Chelsea player. Imagine the reception he’d get if he was the one accused of the abuse. Cheered to the rafters presumably.

6mins
A couple of corners for Chelsea come to nought – but David De Gea looked all at sea and made an utterly pathetic fist of fisting the ball to safety. He clearly inspires no confidence in his teammates.

8mins
A prone Essien plays Young onside in the box leading to a tangle of legs and a half-hearted penalty appeal. Nothing doing from Webb.

9mins
Mata is definitely more central than I anticipated – some good movement between he and Torres opens up space for Boswinga to have a pop at goal. It’s saved easily.

10mins
United have strong penalty appeals turned down. Welbeck gets goal side of Cahill who brings the striker down in a foul which began outside the box and ended with him tripping Welbeck inside it. Fergie will be apoplectic. Replays show that Webb had a great view of it – and still got it badly wrong.

12mins
Sir Alex is giving the fourth official a Wrigley’s scented mouthful on the touchline. Quite what effect he thinks this might have is unclear but he’s right to be angry.

16mins
It’s scrappy so far but United are the more threatening. Chelsea seem unable to clear their lines properly – constantly playing each other into trouble around their own box and playing simple clearances to the feet of United players. If it carries on like this United will soon break through.

18mins
Rafael gives the ball away cheaply, Torres is dragged to the ground and Chelsea have an opportunity to lump the ball into the danger zone. It’s flat and wasted by Mereiles who really needed to stick it under De Gea’s chin and watch the ensuing carnage.

20mins
Space opens up in front of United’s box but instead of charging into the gap, Torres takes a swipe at goal from 22 yards. He cuts across it and it slides harmlessly wide. It was a shot which betrayed his lack of confidence. I actually feel sorry for him now.

22mins
Interestingly, both sets of central defenders are playing on the opposite sides to where you’d expect them. Luiz and Ferdinand are both patrolling the left half of the pitch – not their normal positions.

24mins
Juan Mata scoops a rugby-league style bomb into the United area which Evans volleys away at full stretch. Chelsea are growing into this now – but neither side has yet created a clear-cut chance with players from both teams coming short to create and thus emptying the eighteen yard boxes.

27mins
Rooney just beat the offside trap after a neat ball from Valencia. He got the ball stuck under his feet when he ought to have been charging for goal. Instead he rolled a ball across Cech’s six yard line for Welbeck only to see Ivanovic clear for a corner (which came to nothing). Poor from Wazza, that.

30mins
Torres is booked for charging into the back of Evans with his extremities stuck out. The Northern Irishman goes down after being poked with a double whammy of knees and elbows. Utterly needless from the Spaniard who’s looking increasingly frustrated with himself.

33mins
Danny Welbeck runs around a lot.

35mins
OWN GOAL!!
Some uncertainty in the United box leaves a number of Red Devils flat footed. Evra is turned inside out by Sturridge who cuts the ball back from the byline. It cannons off De Gea, ricochets off Evans and nestles in the net. Dreadful defending from United.

37mins
The game explodes into life as De Gea is forced into a plunging save from a fizzing long-distance drive. At the other end Cech performs similar heroics to thwart Young – and gets enough glove on the ball to stop Rooney tapping in the rebound.

40mins
Chelsea have been scrappy and have had less of the ball but have taken their only chance. United have threatened little, although Welbeck has just drawn a smart stop from Cech. Fergie will be wondering how to adjust his forward line at the interval unless they can pop in an equaliser soon.

44mins
After a sustained spell of United pressure the game has really opened up. It’s end to end and littered with mistakes – great entertainment but not great quality. Moves keep breaking down twenty yards out with players diving into challenges left, right and centre.

45+1mins
Ivanovic is booked for having the fattest arse in football. And then Mata sends Giggs sprawling. One last chance for United to pump the ball forward...

45+2mins
And Cech tips his shot around the base of the post.

Peep!
It’s half time in a game Chelsea will be delighted to leading. It’s been tense and tight, but United have been marginally the better side. It’ll be interesting to hear Red Nev’s thoughts on that penalty non-decision. Whether it was inside the box or out, it was a foul and Cahill ought to have seen red.

Half-Time
Neville and Redknapp think United should have had a penalty for a challenge on Young – but the player fell forward when having his shirt pulled backwards. The player has undermined his own case with a dramatic tumble there. They don’t think it was a penalty for Cahill’s foul on Welbeck but it was a foul. I maintain that the defender ought to have been sent off on his debut.

Peep!
After ensuring his hair looks lustrous, Fernando Torres gets us underway.

WHAT A GOAL!!
From the kick off Chelsea score one of the goals of the season. From the right flank Torres bends it like Beckham to Juan Mata – who spanks an unstoppable volley into the top corner from eight yards out. What a magnificent goal. United look stunned.

47mins
Seen from behind the player, Mata’s goal looks even better – he let the ball drop across his body beautifully before wellying it in. De Gea wasn’t miles away from it but he was never, ever going to save it.

GOAL!!
A disastrous start to the second half as a free kick from the right wing ends up in United’s net via a combination of David Luiz’s shoulder and a flick off Rio Ferdinand’s back.

51mins
United are reeling here. They genuinely have been the better team but have been eviscerated at the start of the second period by a lightning quick start from Chelsea and some awful defending.

52mins
Hernandez comes on for Young and is immediately – and predictably – flagged offside. The Mexican’s troubled Luiz in the past, but salvaging anything from this game seems a forlorn hope for Manchester United.

56mins
Ferguson has a problem here: it’s too early to accept a defeat but too soon to go gung-ho. What will the master do?

PENALTY
Sturridge brings down Evra and Rooney puts the ball on the spot. His record from 12 yards is awful recently.

GOAL!!
He meant that! Rooney almost rips the net out with a piledriver into the top left corner. Game on!!

59mins
United have the bit between their teeth now. Hernandez almost squeaks through a gap before Chelsea break up the other end and Sturridge wafts a shot well wide. He’s having an eventful game, young Sturridge.

60mins
Ivanovic’s sizeable rear nudges Welbeck out of the way after Giggs almost freed the striker with a slide-rule pass down the left wing.

62mins
United make a tactical change – Valencia moves to right back as Paul Scholes enters the fray. It’s Rafael who makes way. United have no genuine width in midfield now and will need to push their fullbacks on – it’s a risky but necessary strategy.

65mins
United are caught on the hop as Luiz splits their defence with a simple through ball. After a flick from a defender’s boot takes the ball away from Torres, Mata steers one at goal which De Gea throws his hat on. It’s end to end stuff now.

67mins
Great interplay from Giggs, Rooney and Hernandez ends with Cech clutching at a scuffed shot from Rooney – who’s pulling the strings now.

PENALTY!!!
Welbeck goes down in another tangle. It’s not a dive but it might not be a foul either. He left a leg hanging and Ivanovic brought him down. A very strange incident.

GOAL!!
Rooney scores emphatically, thumping the ball to Cech’s left. Even if he’d gone the right way he’d have had no chance. Rooney is rising to the occasion now.

71mins
It’s Chelsea’s turn to be rattled now. Romeu is on to shore things up in midfield. Sturridge was not happy to be the player hooked. Is AVB inviting pressure now? Surely that’s the last thing he should be doing against a rampant United.

73mins
Romeu gives the ball away in midfield and within seconds Hernandez is cutting a shot across Cech and wide. Chelsea are rocking.

75mins
Torres rolls the ball back to Essien who hammers a shot from 25 yards which De Gea punches over the bar. It’s more unconvincing goalkeeping from a shot which was straight at him.

76mins
Torres has no confidence whatsoever. He breaks into the box and after spurning numerous chances to hit the ball at goal he is crowded out. He didn’t need to beat his man there and should have just put his laces through the ball. He seems so scared of missing that he daren’t shoot. Crazy.

79mins
United have Giggs and Welbeck on the wings, Scholes and Carrick in the centre, Hernandez and Rooney up top. Valencia is charging forward at every opportunity too – there’ll be a goal for Chelsea on the break if United don’t nick an equaliser first.

81mins
Sustained pressure from United sees them win a corner and time to draw breath. Danny Welbeck meets it but he’s too far beyond the near post and can’t steer his header at goal.

82mins
Giggs upends Mereiles and Chelsea pause over the freekick, desperate to take the wind out of United’s sails. They manage to keep the ball a while but it’s soon back with United who pour forward.

GOAL!!
CHICHARITO!!!
Valencia charges down the right and swings a lovely ball into the centre. Rooney goes for goal somehow Cech saves. The ball squirts out to Giggs on the left wing. He teases a beautiful cross into the six yard box, Hernandez springs and powers a header at goal which Cech can’t claw out. United won’t be happy to settle for a point.

86mins
For the first time in the history of the Premier League, Martin Tyler is tripping over his words. Mereiles might have equalised there with a better header.

88mins
Rooney is shimmering with menace as United steam forward but it’s Chelsea who break and win a corner. United smuggle it away and head upfield only for Evra to run the ball out of play. Somewhere on the excitement Park came on for Welbeck.

90mins
There’ll be four added minutes and in the first of them Luiz wins a cheap free kick after tumbling theatrically over Scholes’ non-challenge. It’s to the right of the United box and Mata postage stamps it into the top corner. Except he doesn’t – because De Gea pulls off a wonderfully athletic save. Magnificent from the much maligned Spaniard.

92mins
Giggs and Evra combine to win a corner. The United fans are jubilant. Will they see a winner? They ought to have as players throw themselves at Giggs magnificent delivery. There’s a half-arsed penalty appeal as Torres appears to handle, Cech collects a Carrick shot from distance and Hernandez is flagged offside again.

94mins
Gary Cahill lumbers forward and launches a blockbuster which De Gea tips over. And that just about wraps it up. Phew.

Wowsers! How do you sum that up? Chelsea will be distraught to have let that lead slip but they were fortunate to have held it in the first place. United will be annoyed they didn’t win – but they gained a point which seemed entirely unlikely after 48 minutes. Rooney and Mata were magnificent, Cech made some great saves and Giggs rolled back the years. But perhaps the game’s defining moment was De Gea’s miraculous save – could it be the moment that convinces the world he’s got what it takes to be United’s number one?