A lovely goal by the delightful player who may have a dodgy mullet, but who is vying with Keano and King for the title of Tottenham player of the season. His set-pieces may be disappointing, but otherwise Michael Carrick is a joy to watch and should have been given many more England caps than those with which Sven has so far graced him (especially as Eriksson seems to spend most weekends at White Hart Lane - it was a mild surprise to learn he wasn't among the 30-strong Swedish Spurs Supporters' Group contingent over here for the weekend and taking tea with the Tottenham supporters' trust last night...)
Today was about as much of a trouncing as 2-1 could ever be (well, at least since the Vermin's same-score victory over us in the 2001 FA Cup semi-final at Old Trafford, misery of all miserable days out that that was...)
Shame we got a little panicky towards the end, but a win's a win and one less game until the end of the season. And I don't think I've ever seen a Citeh visit quite so quiet and subdued, all the way through...
At least the players didn't respond quite as dynamically to Psycho Pearce's tirades as I'd expected, though Kiki Musampa is as much of a handful as any mid-table Premiership side can offer these days... Thankfully Carrick's impeccable passing, JJ's late-game bursts of sudden energy, and Keano's all-round intelligence saw us through that midfield minefield... (Less said about Mido - hairstyle of a ballerina, body of a wrestler - the better...)
Time for United to pay back the favours we've obligingly offered them in seasons past, when our mediocre meaningless position made a Man Utd win almost as cherishable for the damage it did the Filth's Title challenge...
No longer, now our respective results mean something to us too...
We love United, we do...
And maybe Pompey - them too...
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