Hernandez Brace Resurrects United

A Javier Hernandez double inspired yet another Manchester United comeback in a hard fought victory against a deflated Aston Villa.

Hernandez, a second half substitute, left Villa feeling a sense of de ja vu after United came from 2-0 down to turn the game on its head.

A pulsating second half was barely five minutes old when Andreas Weimann doubled Villa’s lead, after opening the scoring on the stroke of half time, with a close range finish from Gabriel Agbonlahor’s cross.

But the introduction of Hernandez was the catalyst for a dramatic turn around and three goals in half an hour which captured all three points for the league leaders.

Were Villa architects of their own downfall?

Emphatically not.

Paul Lambert’s side won’t be win the league with kids but on this performance his youthful side must be favourites to pull themselves out of their slump. 

Villa made it hard for United, who were not at their best, by pressing their midfielders, particularly Paul Scholes, into submitting possession.

Indeed it was Lambert’s men who for an hour looked good value for their lead but Villa Park has been a happy hunting ground for United, the ground where they have prised the most Premier League points away from Old Trafford.

Villa’s lead came after 45 minutes of counter attacking play from both sides, Austrian striker Weimann placing above David de Gea in the United goal after a well measured pull-back from the lively Christian Benteke.

Though Ashley Young, who was booed from the outset, swung a shot side wide and Wayne Rooney drove one from afar, United failed to threaten Brad Guzan’s goal; Robin Van Persie cut a peripheral figure up front.

It was when the second half got under way, with Hernandez replacing the futile Young, that United’s rhythm improved. 

But when an errant pass from Scholes was latched onto by Stephen Ireland, Agbonlahor tore up the left wing in support. His cross-goal effort was diverted past De Gea from close range by Weimann and with 50 minutes on the clock Villa should have been favourites for an unlikely victory.

Ferguson’s United, though, are never dead and buried and a second half resurrection was given life when Hernandez ran onto Scholes’ lob over the Villa defence to slip past the ensuing Guzan.

United have made a habit of falling behind this season, eight times in all competitions, before recovering  to earn a victory, but when Van Persie twice hit the wood work, firstly with a close header and seconds later with a curling effort, Villa could have been forgiven for thinking this was their night.

But United don’t do sympathy and when Hernandez’s deflected second at the back post drew his side level there was only going to be one outcome.

With less than five minutes to go Van Persie swept a delivery into Villa’s penalty area to find an unmarked Hernandez to stoop low and head home to conquer.  

The last time United came from two down at this ground and won was when Ruud Van Nistelrooy fired two past Villa. 

Partnering the Dutchman that day was a Norwegian striker whose habit of conjuring match winning goals earned him cult status in the Stretford End.

Hernandez might have earned a place in the starting 11 next week.   

Euro Nightmare

I have seen the future.

It came to me only last week but through the most unlikely method.

The premonition didn’t come through telepathy , tarot cards or even travelling gypsies.

Nor did I have to squeeze my temples, forcing my brain into activity, while exasperating: “Commmme onnnnn, you stuuuuupiid heaaad orrrgaaan. Ahhhh,” for my image of the future. 

My insight into the next century, perhaps even the next decade, came from none other than my own vehicles of discernment: my peepers.

I was in Portugal, the great pretender to Greece’s King of the PIGS, and staring right back at the sun-blushed canvas that was my face was the very envisagement of a supranational union that could eventually become reality.

I was looking at Europe: one federal nation to rule them all.

While this may have uber-Lefties foaming at the mouth, and indeed, I suffered from similar convulsions, albeit through the local white, this dystopia perfectly laid out why Tory grandees might just have to thrust Boris Johnson upon the nation if Dave does not sever our ties with the continent.

So, without mentioning the obvious towel malfeasance, unkempt arm pits or catastrophic currency, allow me to outline some observations. 

Remember: this could be you.

A European’s dress sense is nonsense.

I’m no Alexander McQueen but I do have eyes. European’s, namely Germans, do not. One German man with large hands, and an even larger wife, wore dungarees over a tshirt, a pair of those ghastly Crocs and a woven cowboy hat. “Ha,” I laughed, “that guy, he’s a real joker wearing that. He must have lost a bet with his fellow Germanic pals.” It was only on the fourth consecutive evening when he was wearing precisely the same that I almost admired the gall of the man. But not his lumberjack/lesbian attire.

Europeans do weird things

The British have a reputation for being rather eccentric but we’ve a long way to go, judging by what I’ve seen, to match our continental counterparts. One hirsute, fuzzy, French chap with a moustache

not so much like a handle bar but a fully operational  bar, complete with optics, smoked a pipe while laying by the pool. A pipe. And he wasn’t a Victorian.    

(Jumping French beans! I have seen my first ever proper pipe being smoked, with all, like, the ash in the wooden bowl! Author eagerly ticks “Man Smoking ‘Real’ Pipe” off ‘Cool Things To See List’. Next up: George Lazenby cooking an omelette)

Europeans talk too much

Sometimes a little piece and quiet to gather ones thoughts is a nice way to spend a few moments, right? Try telling that to Franc and Miguel at the pool bar. It’s not just that these people talk too much, it’s the thunderous, inconsistent volumes they insist on talking in. Put a pipe in it.

Europeans are arrogant

Yes, I know, you don’t need to be Howard Carter to discover that but its the various circumstances in which their arrogance arises that baffled me. Take, for example, food. Diners would walk past my table, take one look at the quivering stack of meat piled upon my plate, raise their noses and off they went to a table with their malnourished children.

Another instance was sport. Picture the scene. Day two: England vs Rest of the World (Europe) on the scorching Astroturf football pitch. “AAAAA, you Inglesh?”, one of the Spanish said before erupting into laughter with his amigos. Last minute, Birmingham Cit fan Jason leaps like a bloody Salmon to head home: 5-4 to England.

So if Britain wants to remain its blazer wearing, meat scoffing, goal scoring best it’s future is not alongside the rest. 

The week so far: Plebs

EVERYBODYseems to have ever so slightly lost the plot this past week.

If it hasn’t been wedge-headed MP’s it was the police. And if it wasn’t the gavers booking said MP it was it was Sussex Police, who were looking through pencil cases for a lustful student who fancied a bit of extra curricula.  

Even I, with the patience of a stone, got involved with all this anger malarkey when South West Trains decided to dump me off at Southampton Central for a couple of hours after a “tractor carrying a trailer” careened into a bridge somewhere.

So add to that list one cantankerous county bumpkin, too.

I’m not here to offer any remedies for this rage but I can offer perspective.

Firstly to the case of Andrew Mitchell, who last week swore at a couple of police officers who denied him the right to cycle through the Number 10 gates.

Not only did he swear at her majesties’ constabulary but he also, allegedly, called them “plebs”. And I can see both sides of the ensuing debate.

Yes, the mop-haired Mitchell should have refrained from swearing at the police and he certainly may have wanted to button it with his “know your place” spiel.

But, really? Plebs? Don’t we all sometimes unleash on the nearest, person, pet or, in this case, policeman?  

And talking of policeman, did those Met officers really need to record the exchange? I mean, far from being a bully, but, even when I used to bully people at school they didn’t tell on me.

Are we really that much of a nanny state now that even the police tell Daddy on the naughty man?

This is how the fuzz could have resolved the situation, without looking like plebs.

Officer 1: “Andy, sorry pal, but I’m going to have to ask you to climb down from you bicycle.”

Mitchell: “Oh, I say, old chap, what seems to be the bother?”

Officer 1: “Well, it’s just that...”

Officer 2: “Look, Andy. You’re a greeno. I get that, Dave gets that. We all think it’s wonderful you’re riding a bike to a meeting. But, on your way, did you see yourself in the bus shelter’s reflection?”

Mitchell: “What’s a bus shel...”

Officer 1: “Mitch, things is mate we can’t have you rolling into Downing Street on that, after you paid someone to cut that on your head with a bank account your size. PR, hello?”

I think the quasi camp “hello” would have sealed it with Mitchell toodling into Number 10, cap in hand, bread in basket and looking every part the wartime housewife (a key demographic, incidentally).

Then there was also Sussex Police (not a good week for the boys in blue) who are conducting a search for the missing school girl Megan Stammers.

 Megan, 15, is said to have caught a ferry with her 30 year-old Maths teacher, Jeremy Forrest, to France.

Heaven knows why France but one suspects, looking at Forrest, that he is a James Bond fan and wanted to show Megan where Grace Jones impregnated the screen in A View to a Kill.     

The more logical explanation, of course, is that Forrest picked up a copy of Saturday’s Times and saw the headline: “Stay on at school if you want pay rise, teachers told” and, liberal sort that he is, thought he’d take it one step further and not only teach Megan an additional subject (which he may or may not even know – so he had to learn it himself! Talk about beyond the call of duty!) but also take her to its birthplace to enhance the learning experience.  

Bon voyage, I say.  

No Delight After Turkish Win

ALL journeys must begin somewhere and Manchester United have started on the road to Wembley with an unconvincing victory over Galatasaray.

Michael Carrick’s seventh minute goal tonight was enough to give United all three points in their opening Champions League group game but the Turkish champions could easily have turned back the clocks on last season’s Premier League runners up and leave Old Trafford with at least a point. United were never in control and risked throwing away early kudos in Group H, much as they had in last seasons competition when they were eliminated at the group stages for the first time since 2005. Had luck been on the Turkish champions’ side Selcuk Inan’s first half glancing header or Hamit Altintop’s whipped effort would have glanced the inside of David De Gea’s up-right and not bounce out for a goal kick. Fatih Terim can also feel aggrieved his side were not awarded a penalty in each half, firstly when after only 30 seconds Nemanja Vidic dangled a leg at Umut Bulut and also in the dying minutes when the returning Johnny Evans scythed down substitute Johan Elmander inside the United box. Carrick’s goal came while United were gaining their stride. Afforded greater possession after Terim started with a 4-4-2, Carrick advanced forward, receiving a return pass fro Robin Van Persie. After a tidy exchange with Shinji Kagawa on the edge of the box, Carrick steadied himself and rounded Fernando Muslera in the away side’s goal before finishing. Carrick, who is often criticised for being inert going forward, showed the composure of a Rolls Royce rather than a striker’s instinct. As Old Trafford settled to what it assumed would be a formality, Galatasaray, buoyed by their deafening 2,500 fans, took the game to United. A misplaced Paul Scholes opened up space for the lively Nordin Amrabat to arch a shot beyond De Gea which ricochet off the crossbar. Inan and Altintop also hit the woodwork. Galtasaray’s counter attacking style was akin to United’s own but Ferguson’s men were wasteful in possession, none more so than Nani who squandered the ball and ran into dead-ends. The Portuguese topped off a dismal performance with a missed penalty. Rafael had darted into the penalty area before being clipped from the side but Nani’s resulting penalty was easily pushed away by Muslera. The winger has been told by Sir Alex to pull his socks up in the wake of recent weak performances. On the basis of tonight you wonder how far above the ankle they go. He was, however, not solely to blame for United’s fragmented look. Scholes, Van Persie and Antonio Valencia all were disappointing, though the latter had a penalty appeal turned down after a burst inside the penalty box. Other than three points on the opening night of the European campaign, the only welcoming news for Sir Alex was the appearance of Darren Fletcher, on as a 80th minute substitute to replace Scholes. Fletcher has not played a competitive match for United since November and his tenacity will help prevent United get overrun by more ubiquitous midfields than the Turkish sides’. If United are to progress in this tournament they must improve on this standing start.