Hmmmm where to start with this one? Do I focus on the first half; do I focus on the embarrassing Phil Dowd or do I focus on the much maligned Diaby?
Well, the title works anyway, the first forty five minutes were not just good they were great and certainly the best we have seen since Blackpool at the beginning of the season. Newcastle went in at half time having been ripped apart, totally embarrassed and left for dead or so we thought.
The Bad, yet again dreadful refereeing, two penalties for things that only people who wear special 3D glasses handed out at Old Trafford are able to see.
And then there is Diaby, I hope your leg is alright Abou, I hope there is no lasting damage because your school boy behaviour will certainly cost us dearly by way of points at the end of the season. Bit harsh? The man was charged with holding the midfield together, it was his job to suffer the rough and tumble of that heated battle zone and if you are not hurt, you get up and get on with it. I don’t care how close you come to having your leg broken if it doesn’t snap you get up and carry on doing your dandiest to win the game for your team, the one thing you don’t do is get yourself sent off.
I guess it’s decided then — Diaby catches the lot.
How did the match report become to be so painful to write? This was one of those games that at 3-0 you sat back relaxed with a cold beer and gave your poor old nails a rest from the ravages they have suffered in recent past after being viciously chewed while watching one tense game or another.
This was one of those games when a family member could walk in or someone could phone mid-game and you would speak to them in a calm, pleasant tone. What’s the score? 3-0, GOAL, no make that 4-0, Van Persie has just scored again. Yes, of course, you can borrow some money.
How on earth did it go from that to screaming at the telly, chewing my nails like a demon, kicking the cat and generally being horrible to anyone who was foolish enough to come near me?
I just don’t know, I just don’t have the answer.
As for the game, I could mention what a superb pass it was from Arshavin for Walcott to score, I could complement the Russian again for his second assist inside five minutes by way of the free kick that allowed Djourou to score his first goal for the club, I could praise Theo for the wonderful cut back that gave Van Persie his first; or, of course, I could rave about the quality of the cross by Sagna that gifted Van Persie his second goal but I won’t because you can read better descriptions in the Sunday papers by people capable of describing them far better than I, but what you won’t get in those very same papers is something to read that reflects your pain your suffering and your down right hatred of Joey Barton.
Written by London