Obvious really. The FA and the police should have seen the disorder at last nights Carling Cup tie between West Ham and Millwall coming.
Nothing to do with East End rivalry. Nothing to do with Millwall's notorious hooligan element.
The problems were started by lengthy queues at all cashpoints in the vicinity of Upton Park before kick-off. None of these professional Cockernees could decipher the rhyming slang.
I miss seeing Cockneys trying to get a taxi in Moss Side.
Noel on Maine Road and the good old days.
A sheet of A4. Blank. Completely blank.
I dont know which is worse. Being rejected by Darren Bent. Or hearing the news via Twitter.
'“Do I wanna go Hull City NO. Do I wanna go stoke NO do I wanna go Sunderland YES'.
Unfortunately, Darren's twitter account 'db10thetruth' has miraculously been closed.
Can. Not. Parse. Input.
Does. Not. Compute.
Segmentation violation. Kernel panic.
Exclusive - the Manchester City 2009-2010 Premiership winning lineup in full.
Anyone spot the deliberate mistake ?
Come on everybody. Sing along now.
A mole digging in a hole
Digging up my soul now
Going down, relegation
Ashley and I in the sky
You make me feel like I can die
So low, relegation
Relegation Relegation Relegation
Unfortunately, I wasnt able to get a ticket to the Emirates on Tuesday night so here is my match report culled from my stream of inane drivel on identi.ca.
Preparing for the big game...
'My wife just gave me the shock of my life. She said 'We may have a big problem here.' Thought TV was bust. Turned out son 'lost' his PE bag.'
'Saw a couple of Gooners on way to Emirates. Lowered car window and shouted 'Manchester, Manchester, la, la, la' at them. They waved back.'
'Why the feck do Arsenal sing 'The Wonder of You' ?'
The game gets underway and the first can of Grolsch gets opened. 'What a start ! 2-0 after 11 minutes. The tie is over now. The wonder of Almunia (back to his best) and Gibbs.'
Half-time arrives, the pundits have their say and the Grolsch is restocked during the adverts.
'Urgh ! Jens Lehman - what a nasty and uncalled for surprise !'
'God - I think Steve Rider is going to cry in a minute. Is he a Gooner ?'
Second half gets underway...
'Gibbs off - for Eboue. Well, that's a bit harsh. He wasn't that bad ! LOL'
'Where are all those pretty Red and White Arsenal flags ? Have the stewards asked for them all back ?'
'Oh no - someone has left a suspicious package in the corporate seats. The anonymous caller just said it was under a pretty Red and White flag.'
'Jesus - that third goal - Rooney, Ronaldo was absolutely superb ! 3-0.'
'Walcott off - never actually realised he was playing. As Morrissey sang, 'You just haven't earned it yet, baby.'
'Who the f*ck are Man United ? Who the f*ck are Man United ? And the Reds go marching - on, on, on.'
'Arsenal - you now require 5 (five) goals in 25 minutes.'
'Rooney off - will play in the Final - and we look forward to the exertions and energy of Berbatov.'
'The commentator raises a good point - Ferguson is never hailed as a tactical genius (like Rafa, Arsene). Probably for the best.'
'Still, all Gooners can go home - trophyless - and rest assured this is a young team with promise for the future. Just like the last 5 years.'
'Look at Madrid. Look at MUFC. I have a feeling Ronaldo might be staying put. Not sure whether I'm pleased about that or not.'
'Fletcher - red card for a fair tackle - misses Final but you can't referee retrospectively. Otherwise MUFC might have lost to Spurs.'
'Emirates half-empty at the end - strictly part-time supporters. Don't forget your complimentary Red and White flags on the way out now.'
A lot has been written about Chelseas recent exit from the Champions League to an injury time winner from Iniesta at Stamford Bridge that dumped Chelsea out of the competition on the away goals rule to Barcelona.
Inevitably, there has been much discussion about the controversial penalty incidents, the quality of the Norwegian referee, the behaviour of some Chelsea players during and after the match and even ridiculous talk of a UEFA conspiracy.
However, two of the main protagonists in this European Cup Semi Final should reflect and examine the part they played in the semi-final more closely.
Look again at Iniesta's goal. No - come on, stop laughing - and look closely at the goal.
Who is the closest Chelsea player to Iniesta when he receives the ball ? Michael Ballack. Just look at Ballack's feeble attempt to block Iniesta's shot. This is the dying seconds of a Champions League semi-final. Ballack actually goes down on one knee and shrinks away from the ball instead of charging it down.
As for Didier Drogba, he missed a gilt-edged chance in the first leg that would have given Chelsea a priceless away goal. Drogba also missed a similar opportunity that would surely have sealed the tie in the second leg at Stamford Bridge. Drogba will claim his shirt was pulled in one of the penalty incidents but maybe his reputation for cheating and diving preceded him and influenced the referee's decision.
After 72 minutes, Drogba was substituted. As he walked off, he shook his head and limped towards the bench. The implication was he was injured after a heavy tackle and could play no further part. This clearly wasn't a tactical substitution.
Imagine then, my surprise at the final whistle, to see Drogba leap up from the bench, clad in idiotic flip-flops, running onto the pitch to harangue the referee and deliver a foul-mouthed, abusive tirade directly into the cameras and a watching TV audience of millions. No injury. Once again, just like last May when Drogba needlessly got himself sent off in the Champions League Final which meant that he could not take a crucial penalty, Drogba had cheated Chelsea FC and he cheated Chelsea fans.
Finally a word on the Chelsea captain, John Terry, the man who sobbed like a baby, after his hilarious missed penalty gifted the European Cup to Manchester United last May. After the final whistle, you can clearly see John Terry admonishing security stewards who were trying to offer some protection to the referee as they attempted to escort him from the field of play. Is a man like John Terry who conducts himself like this really a role model and the right choice as captain of England ?
Apologies for the slightly delayed post but I was laughing uncontrollably for much of yesterday.
On Wednesday 11 January 1989, I went to Loftus Road to see Manchester United play QPR in an FA Cup 3rd round replay.
As usual, we went for a pint in our favourite pub, The Greyhound (or similar), on Shepherd's Bush Green before finally spurning one last beer and reluctantly making our way to the ground. Loftus Road was packed. The United section behind the goal was full. Stewards opened up another section along up to the half-way line to accommodate the large away support.
When we eventually got past the turnstiles, we surged forward onto the small terrace, singing and chanting, looking forward to an exciting FA Cup-tie under floodlights.
Shortly before kick-off, more United fans were admitted into our section and there was another surge forward as they tried to get a decent view, I'm a big guy (6'2") and I was (literally) lifted off my feet until everyone found their place and settled down.
When Tony Gill and then Deiniol Graham scored for United, there was manic celebrations from all the United fans. Once again, I was lifted off my feet but I didn't care - United had scored !
In the ensuing melee and chaos, a couple of people, including a young lady, lost their footing and fell onto the concrete terrace. When the celebrations subsided, these people were simply lifted back to their feet to continue their vocal support for United as they pressed for a winner.
Three months later, I watched TV pictures of an tragedy unfolding at a FA Cup semi-final held at Hillsborough where 96 football fans who, like me, had travelled to a football match, excited, apprehensive, nervous, to support their team.
Although I was saddened by the news from Hillsborough, I recall I was rather blase about the tragedy. After all, I didn't support Liverpool and I suspect we all probably went out for a few pints that night as Match of The Day was curtailed.
On Monday, I found myself alone in the house and read a copy of The Independent and was confronted by stark, black and white images of young people pinned to those metal fences in pens 2 and 3 in Leppings Lane, gasping for breath, lifted off their feet, unable to stand, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Innocent, young, passionate, football fans, just like me at Loftus Road, supporting their team.
Dying. In front of me.
I stared again at the pictures, I read the stories about the mothers, the sons, the daughters, the fathers. Then, suddenly and spontaneously, I just broke down and cried like a baby.
That's why, for all Manchester United's rivalry with Liverpool and for all the jokes and for all the banter, I have never sung a 'Hillsborough' chant in my life.
May the 96 victims of Hillsborough rest in peace.
On Saturday, I was lucky enough to get a last minute invite to Craven Cottage to watch Fulham play Manchester United.
My unexpected treat came courtesy of a friend who works for a construction company who have 10 corporate tickets at Fulham. Ordinarily, he would have taken his son but, fortunately for me, the poor lad was serving the last day of a grounding as a result of a serious, undisclosed misdemeanour.
We caught the 85 bus up to Putney and immediately caught a taste of the pre-match atmosphere walking through Bishops Park when we were treated to the full repertoire of United songs from a solitary, and very inebriated, United fan. I suspect originally he may have been travelling down with some mates in a Salford hire van who miraculously 'forgot' him at Watford Gap services.
A lady gave us all some fancy passes and a complimentary program and we were ushered to in a semi-private lounge where we got a pre-match drink and placed our bets (3-1 United, Berbatov/Fletcher to score first, Scholes to score last, first goal 30-45 mins). Very civilised.
Shortly before kickoff, we took our seats to find we were sitting immediately behind the away dugout. After the debacle against Liverpool, Ferguson had shuffled the pack a little with Ronaldo and Berbatov up front, Giggs and Scholes in the midfield.
As United had recently destroyed Fulham not once but twice, scoring 7 goals with no reply, I was quietly confident. The United subs (Tevez, Rooney, Neville) and backroom staff took their places on the bench and the game got underway on a beautiful, warm sunny day in south west London.
Fulham immediately started with some purpose and conviction. They were chasing and hustling United and contesting every ball. Hardly surprising, but a sharp contrast with their weak, shambolic, embarrassing performance at Old Trafford recently.
One of the reasons, I love going to matches rather than watching from a barstool is that you can see everything that's going on. For example. I was interested in watching Dimitar Berbatov. When United signed him, I confidently told a Spurs fan that his laid back attitude and his perceived casual approach simply would not be tolerated at United. God, was I wrong ? Berbatov strolled around the pitch as if he was playing in a testimonial or a pre-match friendly against non-league opposition. After 10 minutes, he looped a header over the bar which was his only meaningful contribution in 45 minutes. Well, apart from tumbling to the ground as if he'd been pole-axed when fairly tackled by Simon Davies.
As always, United had a large travelling support - after all this is a home game for the Surrey and London contingent - and the United fans occupying the entire stand to the goal away to my right, stood up throughout and sang constantly and loudly.
Fulham had the best of the opening exchanges and United's passing was badly awry. Park needlessly gave possession away which resulted in a Fulham corner. From the corner, Bobby Zamora headed goalwards and Paul Scholes instinctively blocked his second attempt with both hands. The referee correctly awarded a penalty and dismissed Scholes. Inevitably, Scouser Danny Murphy expertly converted the penalty and 3 of my 5 bets instantly went down the drain.
United seemed rocked by this double early setback and Van der Sar was called into action to deny Fulham. United badly needed to keep possession and get some inspiration from Cristiano Ronaldo. Instead, we were treated to yet another display of petulance, frustration with his colleagues at misdirected or overhit passes, frustration with defenders who dared to tackle him, frustration with the referee for not giving him decisions, frustration at more free-kicks blasted into the wall or row 36. In fact, Ronaldo's first half performance was on a par with Berbatov.
United kept trying to get a foothold in the game and shortly before half-time Patrice Evra advanced towards the penalty area where he was tackled and he tumbled over, trying to con the referee into awarding a penalty. Play continued and Evra was booked for diving much to the Fulham fans' delight.
Half-time approached. A stony faced Alex Ferguson, chewing gum furiously, stood up to watch the shambles. As he turned back to the dugout, I shouted 'Get Berbatov off - he's a bloody disgrace.'
After a quick painkilling pint, the second half got underway. Squad members, Nani and young Salford lad Eckersley passed in front of me in suits and ties. I greeted Nani and said 'Hiya Phil', who both fleetingly acknowledged me. Later on, I discovered that Eckersley's first name was actually Richard and not Phil.
Thankfully, Ferguson had heeded my advice and Rooney was on for Berbatov who presumably didn't need a shower after the effort he expended in 45 minutes. I was glad I wasn't present in that dressing room as I could picture tea cups being smashed and the hairdryer treatment being meted out by Ferguson.
Thankfully, United came out much improved (would have been difficult to be much worse) and, despite 10 men, managed to keep possession and exerted some pressure on the Fulham goal. Even Ronaldo had miraculously stopped the incessant showboating and childish histrionics and concentrated on playing football (a not so quiet word from Ferguson ?)
Half chances came and went - United were now on top and Fulham were on the back foot. There was a staggering incident when Fulham cleared a corner to the half-way line and all 11 Fulham players remained in their own half, behind the ball, just inviting United to mount yet another attack. United's fantastic support got more vociferous and urgent as they sensed an equaliser. Time passed and the goal didn't come. Schwarzer pulled off an excellent double save. Carlos Tevez came on. United kept pressing. 10 minutes left. Inevitably, Rooney collected his standard booking for tugging at Dacourt's shorts in pure frustration at being dispossessed.
Fulham weathered the storm and with 3 minutes left, United's (and my personal) misery was complete when Zoltan Gera sealed the game by hooking in a great volley to make the score 2-0. All around, fans went absolutely wild while I sat rooted to my seat staring at the concrete floor.
Wayne Rooney's a talented footballer and a great competitior who plays with passion and he obviously cares (c.f. Berbatov) but, after the ref ordered a free-kick to be re-taken from the correct place, Rooney picked the ball up and hurled it back. Fortunately, no-one was in the path of the missile as it could have caused serious injury. Rooney inevitably collected his second booking to leave United to finish the match with 9 men. For good measure, Rooney pummelled the corner flag on his inglorious exit.
The final whistle brought an end to the agony. United's senior players still weren't finished yet though - Van der Sar and Rio Ferdinand continued to hassle and harry the match officials after the final whistle. I have to say the continual petulance, arrogance and general lack of respect shown by the United players during this game was frankly embarrassing. In fact, it was a disgrace.
I was obliged to take yet more good natured stick from the Fulham fans in the bar as we watched the Ireland-Wales rugby.
Celebrity Watch: Brian Barwick (FA), Jimmy Hill (ex-Fulham, ex-MOTD)
Obligatory day tripper photos