The Devil In Me

After the final ball had been kicked, and saved, two besuited men strode onto the pitch to address the players of their clubs. Peter Kenyon, the embodiment of the back-stabbing, money takes all culture at Chelsea spoke to the men in blue. Sir Bobby Charlton, the embodiment of attacking football, the traditions of Manchester United and the history of the world game spoke to the men in red. Tonight was a victory for football.

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We are there again and whilst I think Chelsea are a fine side and that the game was close, too close, I am certain that we deserved it. As soon as they started hitting posts I knew it was our night, luck only smiles on one participant.

One man who will not be smiling tonight is John Terry. Well sorry mate, no karaoke parties for you this week. As a small aside I found it greatly amusing that Michel Platini cannot disguise the contempt he has for some players. Every Frenchman who collected a medal was given a hug and a smile whereas he looked like he could have watched Michael Ballack burn at the stake

It is easy to look back at the game and say that it was perfect in many ways. Scholes played, Ronaldo showed up, Giggs surpassed the appearances record and all of this under the cloak of the Munich anniversary. It just feels great to be a United fan right now and we should allow ourselves a pinch, just a pinch, of whimsical thinking here and there.

When we look back on this season we will do so with a great sense of happiness, but it is important to remember that we were one kick away from losing this final. The reason for that is simply because they make us suffer. But more often than not, they make us smile too.

FOOTNOTE:

Ronaldo had better stay.

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