Friday, March 13, 2009

High Noon, well, nearly

As always in the preceding week of a clash of the only two teams of note to lay claim to the colour Red, I, as a member of the Scouse religion, have been climbing a hill composed of hope, false hope, anticipation, nerves, belief and disbelief. Whats awaits me at the summit? Pastures of potential laid out before my beloved Reds? Or a dark and dreary road to the end of the season and an equalling of our much lauded league title record? Whatever the outcome, I will be wearing the home jersey in my local Liverpool pub and screaming at the telly as Torres hopefully does to Ferdinand what he so easily did to Cannavaro in midweek. I want to see that Spanish Godsend, tearing at his jersey in frenzied celebration with a reeling Stretford End as the backdrop to the stage he so rightly deserves. To see Stevie G soak up the venom of thousands upon thousands of United supporters as his shot strains the net to breaking point, with Edwin and Rio out of focus, bickering in the background. I want to see the eternal workhorse, Dirk Kuyt pulsating with delight but with a face that has unleashed the pent up passion of a true Red. Sweat, Effort, Passion and that eusive element of victory. The media need to see their darlings of attacking football, Manchester United, bullied about their own pitch by the sheer hunger of a team that has not won a domestic league title for much too long. Stevie, we know you are the best. They know you are the best. Lets get started on them admitting it.