The Devil In Me

In the previous group e-mail I outlined my thoughts on the game as they pretty much still stand.  Reina was doing his best Barthez impression, Ferdinand was supreme and Masherano may possibly be in cahoots with a bookmaker somehwere. 

My utter joy about this result has been replaced by something far more familiar for us Reds though, trepidation.  The press seem to be having a field day on this one and already we are being hailed as the new sliced bread and those in Fleet Street are headed for Premier League headquarters with engraving kit in hand at great pace. 

Well hang on a second.  Our beloved United have a habit of making us suffer now don’t they?  We still have a very tricky run-in which from here is starting to look like it has more banana skins than a gorilla enclosure, two of the best teams in the league, a local derby against a tough old bunch and the eternal thorn in the paw that is Middlesborough.   

I remain optimistic about the league, but only in that ‘we ain’t won nothing yet, keep calm’ kind of way that we have been brutally taught to adopt. 

Mr. Tevez, Mr. Saha, Mr. Rooney: the goal is the net like thing surrounded by the white sticks, please go and introduce yourselves.