Date: 29th April 2019 at 3:48pm
Written by:

Nobody Wants to be in the Top Four

Manchester United 1 Chelsea 1

Sunday 28th April 2019 16:00

Red Scouse 2 Chelsea 0: Thankfully I was “yomping about the mountains of Peru with my pet idiot” (Mowgli) and missed this limp, pathetic display. Midway through the Inca Trail when we somehow managed to concede a hatful against a team from which I can’t name one player. Chelsea 4 Slavia Prague 3. Not a convincing procession into the semi-final. Then the internet went into meltdown when we only managed to draw against bleak relegation fodder. Chelsea 2 Burnley 2. 400 metres up a sheer cliff face for that one on the way to sleep in a London Eye type pod hanging off the side of a mountain. Had I been forced to watch it I might have considered unclipping myself and taking a quick way down that didn’t involve the zip lines. But sadly, you can’t even avoid how hapless Chelsea are under Sarri in the Andes. It’s inescapable. Then again you’d have thought that having surprised everyone by booking Heaton for time wasting for half an hour and putting a stop to Burnley’s Championship level w*nkery, that Kevin Not-My Friend might not have still ended up behaving like a total thunderc*nt. Sarri was charged with misconduct. Probably because of his inability to bring on Giroud until the game was basically over and hoping that Higuain would make the difference against a defence of meatheads instead. Duh.

In the News: Hudson-Odoi is broken, does that mean he is unable to run away this summer? I’m coming to terms with the fact that after seven odd years I can now count the number of times left that I will see Eden Hazard in a Chelsea shirt on one hand. Speaking of Chelsea shirts – if he was unsure of whether to go or not, the new kit would have done it. What he actual f*ck is that about? Just when Nike were getting a clue, or at least being bludgeoned into submission in the megastore, along they come with a f*cking hideous tribute to 1991. IS this genuine? Are we to jog out to warm up wearing a matching shell-suit? If we are in the market for a new manager this summer, let is not be Jimmy Floyd, who reportedly claimed that we should flog Eden and bring back Morata. God help Roma, who are apparently either going to get Sarriball or Conte and his alternative personality. Atletico are undecided about whether to keep Diego around after his implosion and his eight match ban. If we buy him back, he may just be surly and fat again, but at least it will shut Mowgli up complaining about how much he misses him.

Eden is being far more classy about potential Real departure than Pogba, who unsurprisingly is taking the spoilt, egotistical brat approach. Statistically did you know he has spent more time this season WALKING about the pitch than any other midfielder in the league. Unsurprisingly, because he is a sh*t of the highest order, Donkeyface says he will have no problems celebrating in front of the Red Scouse fans should he score against them in the Champions League. Given that a large measure of these are the same morons who defended him for biting people, I find it hard to give a sh*t. The level of press spunkery over the Red Scouse it getting unbearable. You can hear them willing City to lose. Dean Saunders can’t understand why neutrals don’t want them to win. It’s because they are smug a*seholes, Dean. Cardiff fans judged mean for chasing a Scouse fan. Out of the home end. When he celebrated them scoring. And Chelsea fans accused of making up an incident where a disabled child had to be treated by paramedics because of a smoke canister and then have to mount a social media campaign to get the Press Plebs to write about it. FIFA levelled an utterly pathetic 20,000 Euro fine at Montenegro for all of the racist abuse flung at England players. Go. F*ck, Yourselves. You crooked b*stards.  Sanchez has now earned £30m for just 30 woeful starts in Manchester, and is being touted as the worst value signing, ever. Poor West Ham, who’d have thought that Wilshere and Carroll would prove to be a waste of time and effort? Well, everyone who isn’t West Ham, probably. It looks like Cardiff will now join Huddersfield and Fulham in the Championship next season. Bye bye Warnock, with your weird Gringott’s goblin face and Peggy Mitchell “get out of my pub” sneer. On the down side, Norwich are back, which means another of the most tedious road trips in football. Good to see a Sheffield side coming up too though, for something different. 

And just in, there has been a mini-bus crash in Turkey injuring the likes of Stephen Caulker and Papa Cisse and killing Josef Sural, a Czech international. You may not have heard of him, but Petr Cech is amongst those paying heartfelt tributes. He was just on his way home from a game, and he leaves behind a wife and two daughters, one of whom was only born in February, so spare a thought for them. 

The Others: Even if our ineptitude and f*ckwittery is inescapable, thankfully, it also seems to be catching. Even if we lost we would stay fourth, though we would have had to win 9-0 to go third. Because suddenly (and luckily for us) nobody in contention for the Champions League games feels like winning. Arsenal suck more than any other club in the country away from home, Sp*rs are too busy prematurely awarding themselves the CL trophy to pay attention to the league and United are just the same as they were under Chequebook Pulis since Ole got the job full time and crashed whatever it was he was “at the wheel” of into a brick wall of sh*t football. Since I’ve been away we’ve been losing half our games as a group. West Ham took a giant dump in the shiny new toilet bowl that is Wait Hart Lane, the Goons have lost to Palace, Wolves and Leicester since I went to South America, and United have had seven defeats in nine. Meanwhile in the race for the title I’ve never been so invested in what another club are doing; shrieking like a banshee the wilds of Peru as City clawed their way over the line in every fixture.

Them: A team with a more miserable run than us at the moment. This is rare. Five of them not got a lot of football in them of late. Half of them used to play for us.

Us: Kovacic and Jorginho together. Which statistically means no goals. Joy. Front three of Willian, Eden and Higuain.

It was a fiery start – in which we actually attacked. Hooray. Kante with the first bursting run into the United box at the Theatre of Plastic Dreams. Seconds later Rudi was caught right out by the lolloping, unfit mess that is Lukaku, who thankfully has all the grace of a drunken water buffalo and f*cked it up. He makes one run and looks like he’s just reached the sun gate at Machu Picchu after a four day ordeal. Another run from them was ultimately hacked apart by Alonso before we were off again. Sadly Dave’s cross on the counter attack was pathetic. Hazard quick to point out that it’s no good if he doesn’t have a hope in hell of getting the ball. It was just end to end, but without any real attempts on goal by either side. The desperation on display by both sides was palpable. Nobody wants a Thursday-Sunday schedule next season. Least of all the fans, whose drinking schedules and social lives are buggered by such a travesty of fixtures. F*cking ludicrous defending put us behind. Mata went to celebrate then his class took over. Not so Lukaku. Kepa clutched his side as it went in – clattered by Shaw but it mattered little. F*ck sake. Marginally appeased by Young getting booted in the head right after the goal, but now they looked settled ad competent. We hadn’t stopped giving it a go. I’ve seen us far more pathetic this season. However every time we played it into the box their entire team was there. De Gea hadn’t even made a save. This state of affairs suited them fine because they were just sitting there waiting for the chance to counter attack whilst we ran around like a*seholes. 

Eric Bailly squandered another chance on 29 thanks to our woeful zonal marking setup, but we escaped. We sprung into a counter attack straight after, but Higuain was offside. He spent most of the game offside. Lukaku throwing his considerable weight straight at Dave almost cost us in the box on 33, and we didn’t look very competent in the final third at all. And yet more competent than the officials. Matic thumps Dave in the face. Atkinson ignores a head injury. Play only stops when Rashford goes down and United put the ball out. We’d lost seven of our last twelve games away from home and you could see why. After trying to kill us, Herrera picks up the first card, deservedly so, and they start singing: “Fergie’s right, the refs are shite.” Oh please. Then AHAHAHAAHAHA Another f*ck up by the “world’s best goalkeeper” just before half time to get us an equaliser out of nothing. After the choker he had against Farcelona, he spilt the ball woefully from Rudi’s long range shot and Alonso was there to pounce and make him look like a c*nt. Again. 

Flat beginning to the second half. United lacked the drive they had before the break and we looked more settled and pretty grateful to have lucked our way back into it. On the hour we lost Rudi – same knee he injured at Anfield. Christensen up and warming up. Which meant Loftus Cheek had to sit back down. Because god forbid you couldn’t just make two substitutions at once. Then Luiz was broken. He got up then Kovacic was clattered. Not as badly as Bailly, who he landed on and who limped off in tears. Finally Ruben got on and we looked better after the changes. We are second only to the Red Scouse in goals in the last fifteen mins so fingers were crossed. 

Rojo should have been off on 79. Shockingly only a yellow for almost killing Willian. Refwatch: Atkinson. The most lenient referee in the league, which is all well and good providing you aren’t blatantly overlooking infringements that injure players. Was not helped at all by dumba*se assistants who couldn’t see what was happening right in front of them. The match was cagey by now. Nobody wanted to lose. Unsurprisingly, Willian didn’t survive that f*cking challenge. Pedro Pony was going to have to get involved. Look Willy gave Rojo said it all. Rojo’s response was to laugh. Dirty, horrible little prick. Not sure why Higuain was laughing with him either. The match ended a scrappy pile of sh*t. Gone was the memory of an entertaining and positive first half from both sides. Seven minutes added on, but in truth I never believed anyone was going to score in the second half. Pedro Unicorn did have to clear it off the line after Rojo, who shouldn’t have even been on the pitch headed one on target, but a draw it was. 

So: A better result for us. What we absolutely didn’t want was to give United three points and a way back into the fight for a Champions League place. We remain in fourth, and if you ask me it’s more likely to be us and Sp*rs than the Goons, who still have to play away or Solskjaer the fraud. But then we have set new, record levels of f*ckwittery this season and neither Watford nor Leicester are easy. Hold on tight, because the next two weeks are going to be bloodier than scrapping over Winterfell with the Night King. 

AC