The Unkind End - and an Uncertain Future

This one was tough to take, like one of those pills that don't go down easy - big, smelly, nasty...only this one was jagged at the edges, and seemed to swell up on the way down. 

Disappointment was something I was expecting to feel at the beginning of this last day of the English Premier League season. In fact, last week had all but placed the title plonk in the middle of Roberto Mancini's laps. All that talk about choking in the season run-in was sounding hollow, especially after Manchester City's assured wins in the derby and then against a potentially applecart-toppling Newcastle. Sure, City's opponents on the last day, QPR had Mark Hughes, a motivation to stay up, and Anton Ferdinand supposedly liked his brother enough to at least try and lock City out for 90 minutes. They had also beaten Arsenal and Liverpool recently. But they also had a very inconsistent team that has struggled to find a stretch of good form and an uncertain structure, not benefited by the statistic of having lost a major majority of their away games this season. On the other side of the coin, United had the advantage over Sunderland, but the Stadium of Light was not historically the best place to end the season for United, especially in such a tight nose-to-the-line finish as this. Besides, even a win was not going to close the 8 goal gap that separate the two Mancunian teams. And that, in the end, was what killed it off for United.

So, I was prepared for the loss of the title, as were many this day. What little hope there was left, was kicked nearer the dustbin when City scored their first goal at the Etihad. Rooney's goal earlier at Sunderland counted for little. Not unless they scored another 8. I had already switched channels to Sony, where the movie 'Ek Main Aur Ek Tu' provided a handy distraction. Then the second half happened.

A message on my phone from Ajay, my fellow United sufferer, alerted me to the fact that the hopes had taken a nosedive. When I switched over to ESPN to see what that meant, the half time whistle had blown. A few minuted later, on the periodic channel flip, the scores had changed. Rangers had equalised. I promptly messaged back - "Keep the faith", scarcely having the courage to have any myself. The situation at the Stadium of Light had also gained significance. As the scores stood, United had the title, but the advantage was slender. Imran Khan and Kareena Kapoor were forgotten. The feeling of resignation that had found a resting place at the bottom of the tummy had been roused, and was turning into a small ball of hope. I watched with chagrin and immense irritation as United threw away chances, and allowed Sunderland to come too close for any kind of comfort. Then a roar, unrelated to the state of the match I was watching, emanated from the crowd. this could only be the United set of fans who had half an eye on the match below, and everything else tuned into the commentary of the match at their neighbour's arena. I switched to ESPN, and almost split into two from the scream that I didn't know how to expel. QPR, down to 10 men had scored again! And 20 minutes remained.

The clock in the corner of my TV screen had never moved slower. The heart raced as United struggled to hold on to their lead. I couldn't bear to switch over to the other channel. The Rangers goal must surely be under enormous strain now. But they were holding, all 10 of them. The three minutes of injury time at the United game went by without major incident. Fergie waved his watch at the fourth official, no doubt wishing he could have done the same at an entirely different venue. Their match was over, but not before City had equalised. My brother muttered something about City's annoying habit of scoring from set pieces, and I nodded absently. The ball of hope had stopped floating, and was now beginning to settle with sickening speed. And with the final move of the match, Sergio Aguero skipped around a flailing defender and smacked the ball past the brave QPR goalkeeper.

And then there was silence. Not in my house - my wife and brother made anguished noises, and I flopped back into the sofa that I was only minutes earlier bouncing on- not on TV -the Etihad had 'gone wild' as they say. But for me that moment seemed to have gone into those sound-free zones where everything  moved but nothing made sense. Why, o why, had they not scored this goal 10 minutes ago?  Why did they have to wait till injury time to score 2 goals? Why did the result have to remain suspended till the last minute, and then bring everything to such sickening, soul-wrenching, crashing end?? I now cursed QPR for having played so well for 90 minutes of the match, for having scored those 2 goals. I cursed Joey Barton, and today ranted at him on twitter, calling him names I'm sure he hasn't heard before but instinctively knows he doesn't like. I cursed Man City for not finding the goals till the absolute last minute. I also cursed the players that caused the 5 minute injury time, whichever team they were playing on, and if someone had been injured during those minutes that the game was suspended for, I cursed them too. Stretchered off, you say?? hah, screw that, I curse you too!!

The day after, I feel no lesser pain. I couldn't sleep last night till very late, so am very cranky as I write this. I announced on my twitter handle and on my BBM status that I was on indefinite mourning till further notice. And I realise this is probably how all those famous teams on the receiving end of these injury-time reversals of fortune must feel. United has been on the right end of these upheavals, and are in fact famous for scoring and winning late. I never gave more than a passing thought about those legions of fans that were devastated on the other side. Bayern, Chelsea, Aston Villa, Liverpool...to name a few. Today, to all these fans, wherever they are, and whatever their present state of mind, I extend a sympathetic hand to shake, and a shoulder to share. No one deserves this. Especially not the fan that invests so much emotionally.

I will eventually recover from this funk, much as I did two years ago when Chelsea won the title by a point on the final day. But the emotions that ran then were different. Chelsea won their match in resounding fashion (8-0), leaving no scope for a nail-biter. United also won their match more convincingly than they did yesterday, though they scored only half the number of goals that Chelsea did that day. So while the Blues snuffed out the embers of hope earlier that day, the noisy neighbours did their best to kick them back into a briefly lit fire, only for them to douse it quickly and painfully with a deluge of icy water.

This too shall pass, and I now await the new season, though with less anticipation and more apprehension. While I do not give too much credence to the claims that the balance of power has shifted towards the 'lesser' Manchester team (cmon, the only thing that separated the teams this year were the fewer goals conceded by City - the best in league by the way), I do accept that United got away with some pretty ordinary football this season. The start of the season opened with much promise fueled by the exemplary start from the likes of Young, Jones, Smalling, Welbeck and Cleverley. The Community shield game, something that United will not feature in this August, was won with much aplomb and people were hailing the new young team of the future. My friend Anup said that Fergie had managed to do what Wenger had spent years trying to do - assemble a group of home-bred young talent that would form the core of future teams - only successfully. The young 'uns were already delivering the first installments of their potential. As the season wore on though, reality struck. Young, Jones and Smalling discovered, or rather revealed, flaws in their game, while Cleverley and Anderson were out most of the season through repeated injuries, compounding the problems that Fergie had as early as last season in the center of midfield, and worsened with the illness to Fletcher, and the loss of form for the workhorse Park Ji Sung. 

Then, after the first stutter at Stoke, came the game that shall always be referred to as the 'the beating that shall not be named'. The 6-1 scoreline may not have done United justice, but everyone felt they were due a rude awakening. Things floundered after that. Losses to a resurgent Newcastle and inexplicably to Blackburn at home made subsequent 1-0 victories seem like resounding triumphs. Fergie, relieved that United were coming away with anything at that stage, said we were due a few 1-0 victories. United kept the title in sight, not letting the effervescence of the City wave overwhelm them. 8 points was the most the distance between the clubs ever got to, and that started whittling down when City, inevitably, started to show signs of stress and fatigue. Mancini has used the smallest group of players amongst the top clubs, whether out of lack of trust with the fringe players, or out of compulsion (the Tevez situation could not have helped). The juggernaut slowed, then sputtered, and the run-in saw United steal the lead. With four matches to go, they even opened out a 8 point lead of their own. Then Wigan whipped them into submission, and in what I consider the game that lost United the title, Everton slipped in two late goals past the worst defensive displays United have put on this season to take two eventually valuable points off United. This was when I knew that my fears at the start of the season were not unfounded. City were relative newbies to the top of the pyramid, and a lot was being said about how this might not be the season they achieved the pinnacle in English football. I concurred, right up to the point that Sergio Aguero was signed on. That for me tilted the scales in City's favour, but I still retained the hope that Fergie's experience over the long haul of a season would perhaps make the difference. City definitely had the better pedigree of players (that midfield pairing of Silva and Toure is to die for), but over the season, they seemed to have fewer alternatives for critical areas. City used 4 to 5 players less than United, but still managed to score more (marginally), concede less, and win the same number of matches as United. This is partially due to the relatively small bank of reserves City has, something that Mancini has regularly complained about, as also to do with the fact that he has had to contend with fewer injury problems to his mainstays than United.

The new season will bring fresh challenges to both teams - City now have a Champion tag to contend with, and even though Mancini managed to bind his team together with some innovatively negative press talk that enabled a final push in the closing stages of the season, he will face issues from the dressing room that he will need to address. He does not command the respect (fear?) that United have for Fergie - despite what you hear from Pogba - and there are mutterings about his style of management that have been temporarily submerged by this post-title feelgood. Mancini will find, sometime in the next season perhaps, that when things start going downhill, these nigglers will emerge from the woodwork with increased vigour. How he handles these will be the proof of his mettle.

United of course return to the same set of problems that they were staring at pre-season. Center of midfield remains a problem, defence is not as assured with Vidic absent - the newbies have far too many flaws and its too early in their career anyways for United to rely on them wholesale. Offensively too, United may need to look around. Berbatov is gone, Owen will go, and Hernandez is too much of a poacher and an opportunist to consider as a permanent fixture in the starting 11. Welbeck and Rooney need further support, someone like a Edin Hazard or a Sergio Aguero, someone that makes the play rather than reacting to it. De Gea looks a lot more assured than he did at the start of the season, and if he beefs up a little, both physically and mentally should become as good as Joe Hart is now. (Said Hart is about 30% of City's credentials in my opinion.) However, looking at De Gea does not really inspire confidence right now, and you wish for an able heir to the legacy of Schmeichel and Van de Saar. So, a lot of things to think about for Fergie, and he should, and I say should, have a longish shopping list to take to the Glazers. And we all know how that is going to go.

My wishlist for Fergie only contains one item - that he wins some good players this summer. Shinji Kagawa from Dortmund and Edin Hazard from Lille would be dream acquisitions. What he will end up with I don't know, but without some major changes in the team structure and composition, they will struggle, perhaps even lose out on the title race. If the funds are not released, and if players are too impatient to wait for decent offers from United, I see myself at the same place I was at the start of this season. With my fingers and toes crossed. I will still be wearing the red on matchday, but with more prayers on my lips than cheer in my heart.