Keano’s Column: United’s Agony Aunt
Dear Keano,
Berba here. I am writing to you because I am fed up with carrying the team on my own. All season long I have created exquisite flicks and sublime control and it is proving to be a total waste of my time. Why, because those water carriers around me are simply not good enough to wear the same shirt as me.
How frustrated do you think I feel when none of my team mates is on my wavelength? They get in my way when I’m out of position and fail to read my elaborate passes when the whole point is to confuse the opposition!
Keano, You are the only one who understands what it feels like to be surrounded by inferior players. How do I deal with these frustrations without sinking to their level?
Dear Berba,
Thank you for sharing your frustrations – some might say delusions – with the rest of us, on this most sensitive post-defeat Sunday of the season. Now, allow me to reply and share some of my opinions, which I suspect are similar to the rest footballing world’s.
I admit that there are those out there who see you as the re-incarnation of Eric Cantona; pure football that lights up games and leaves connoisseurs of beauty purring.
Then there are the people outside your direct family who think you’re a footballing twat.
Given every chance, given a chant, given the ultimate stage on which to perform and you’ve blown it like a cheap street walker on New Year’s Eve.
You need to understand that you are the single biggest frustration that most Manchester United fans feel. Including me. Greater than Owen Hargreaves’ comebacks, than the Glazer debt and, hell, even greater than Nani’s decision making process.
Berba, you are more frustrating than a beautiful Cork city nun.
You are a striker, and yet you rarely strike. You are a centre forward, yet you rarely play in the box. You are a tall man with a big head, yet you rarely score headers. Hell you rarely score, and with that you rarely run, tackle or throw yourself at diving headers.
Granted you can pluck a ball out of the sky like a ballerina and flick the ball backwards like a circus seal but so feckin’ what?
If that’s your thing, then piss off back to ‘as long as we play beautiful football, it doesn’t matter that we win nuffin’ unless the year ends in one’ Tottenham Hotspur.
At United, it’s about winning, and you my sensitive European type are not going to win Bulgarian Substitute of the Year if things continue thise way.
Bayern awaits. So do we. The pressure is most definitely on. Fail us again and Triggs and I will be passing by yours very very soon.
Remember Berba, in Alderley Edge, no one can hear you scream.