TV VIEW:SUNDAY, ITV and the romance of the FA Cup third round. But divil a postman or plumber, banker or baker on the pitch. Manchester City v Manchester United, a clash of the Premier League Philistines. Goliath v Goliath, no Davids here.
Except for Beckham in the stands. As Adrian Chiles pointed out, there was Ryan Giggs in the starting line-up, Paul Scholes on the bench, Roy Keane in the studio and Beckham looking on. It was a midfield reunion so poignant it had United supporters dusting down that seminal George Burns 45, I Wish I Was 18 Again: “Now time turns the pages, and, oh, life goes so fast, the years turn the black hair all grey. Now Carrick’s in midfield, It used to be Roy, No wonder we need, A bottle of Cabernet.”
Hold your horses. Scholes on the bench? If Chiles had told him Nani was partnering Rio Ferdinand in the centre of defence, Keane couldn’t have looked more flummoxed.
“I am surprised,” he said, trying out a whole new ball game: restraint. His forehead crunched up, though, and his eyebrows wiggled violently, so you could tell he was a bit more than surprised.
“What next, like? Nobby Stiles,” he didn’t ask, but you suspected he was half thinking it.
Gareth Southgate, sensibly enough using Peter Reid as a buffer between himself and Roy (as Barbra Streisand put it, “memoriiiiiiiiiies”), was surprised too, while Reid was looking forward to squaring up to Kevin Moran again at Old Trafford.
“But from the manager’s point of view, it’s probably worth the gamble,” Roy added, not, it has to be said, the warmest tribute Carrick has ever received.
All that speculation the last few days about Roy joining RTÉ’s panel for Euro 2012? As our Grannies used to put it, “if God is good”. Although, Bill O’Herlihy would pirouette so violently in his chair, he’d dig a whole in the centre of planet Earth.
For now, though, Roy is contenting himself with ITV punditry, and while he showed flashes of disgruntlement with Chiles, Southgate and Reid, he generally looked relieved not to be captaining a side containing Nani.
“Well, he was never going to go in for a 50-50, was he,” he asked, somewhat rhetorically when they discussed Vincent Kompany’s red card at half-time, Roy at a loss to understand why the City captain reckoned he had to be remotely aggressive in his efforts to win the ball from the Portuguese lad.
“You’re not allowed tackle any more, that’s the problem with the game – it’s getting a bit delicate,” he said. Southgate, still concealing the stud marks on his chest, nodded in agreement.
So then, 0-3 at half-time. As, well, predicted. Done and dusted? “The game is over,” Roy agreed. “The game is gone,” said Reidy. “Eh, we’re trying to keep the viewers interested,” said Chiles, but even he, in his heart, conceded the fat lady had warbled.
Second half: 48th minute – Kolarov. In the 65th minute: Aguero – 2-3. Only pride stopped Alex Ferguson from begging Keano and Becks to tog out, or from texting Nobby: “Get urself here now, even at 69 u’d have + energy than Carrick.” United held out, though, three quarters of the panel singing the praises of 10-man City and their heroics.
“You can give City all the credit you like, but they’re out of the cup,” Roy gushed. “Aaaaaaaah,” Chiles, Southgate and Reid protested. Roy wrinkled his forehead again, so Chiles called for an ad break.
Back again. A deserved red card for Kompany, Sir Alex? “Absoloooly,” he replied. Wayne Rooney? Magnificent? “Aye.” The media stuff? “The press have got another Gascoigne,” he said, chewing on the ITV microphone.
“Given Paul’s history, that’s quite, um, a serious thing,” said Chiles. “Too right,” said Roy’s wiggling eyebrows, but he was preserving his fire for the summer, which might be a long, long, long one for Gilesie if he has to provide the buffer between Roy and Dunphy and Brady. “Ah now lads, come on. No headbutts or biting, okay,” Bill will plead.
Time for the fourth round draw. Macclesfield Town or Bolton v Swansea.
“Oooh,” said Jim Rosenthal. “Stevenage v Notts County.” “Oooh,” said Jim. “Dagenham Redbridge or Millwall v Southampton.” “Oooh,” said Jim. “Hull City v Crawley.” “Oooh,” said Jim. “Liverpool v Manchester United.” “OooOOOOOOooooh, said Jim, needing oxygen, fast. As did the Merseyside police.
Sadly, ITV hadn’t lined up a chat with Patrice Evra, Liverpool’s favourite “negrito”. In a harmless, jocular sense, of course. You can be sure Anfield will give him the warmest of welcomes, them being big-time progressive “Kick Racism Out Of Football” advocates, as their lion-hearted defence of Luis Suarez has proved.
