Who will step up?

An off-color display away to Bolton and a lacklustre performance at Valencia have meant that United go into this weekend's headed at The Stadium of Light, still not in full flow. There's a semblance of respectability to the week that could so easily have gone horribly wrong but for moments of sheer predatorial instinct by Michael Owen and Javier Hernandez. But is it enough steam to spruce up the team ahead of a potential banana skin against Steve Bruce's men?
Form apart, injuries to key personnel are threatening to derail a wobbly season yet again. We still haven't reached last season' lunatic levels but losing Rooney, Giggs, Scholes and Valencia is bad enough. While the injury to Wazza is a welcome relief since it gives him time to go away and get his head straight, the same can't be said about the others. The midfield's display against Scunthorpe and Valencia in the absence of Scholes show what we'll be missing from the next season once He retires. Fletcher' while industrious, seems lost without a creative midfielder around him to pull the strings upfield. And he still hasn't hit top form yet this season. To make things worse, he's already started 2 matches this week, a third might be too much to ask. Carrick and Anderson are just back from injury and giving them two starts in 4 days is a risk, considering the schedule for the next few months. Scholes is out for a week, minimum. This leaves Sir Alex with just Darron Gibson who is a certainty for one of the 2/3 midfield slots. Keeping in mind Gibson's limited distribution skills, Ando is ruled out to partner him. Will Sir Alex spring a surprise like the last time against the Black Cats at home (Danny Welbeck on the left wing)? Magnus Eikrem and Corry Evans certainly merit a callup on the back of a solid start to the reserves' season and it will be interesting to see how to shape up. Or maybe, just maybe, is Owen Hargreaves fit enough to make the bench?
On the wings, it's even worse. Giggs is out for a fortnight and Valencia is... well, out :'( Nani's played every minute of the matches against Bolton and Valencia and due for a break. And Park has been woeful this season. But fair play to the lad, standing up and taking responsibility. Maybe Sir Alex will give him a start just to help hm get his confidence back. The international break is no reason to play the fatigued legs of Nani and Fletcher since they will be in aciton in Euro qualifiers. If indeed Park gets the nod at left wing, who plays right? Has the Portuguese matured enough to give three top notch performance in a week? If not him then Gabby obertan will pounce on a start. Bebe makes a case for himself, but the bench is the closest he is getting to first team action this year. Rafael might be a good option but I guess it's too early in the season for Sir Alex presses that red button. A three man central mid field of Gibson, Park and Fletcher/Carrick behind a three man strike force might just pass muster looking at the glut of options up front.
Up front is where the relief arrives. Yes, Rooney is out but that (though hard to believe considering his 34 last season) is OK, looking at the alternatives. Berbatov will be the string puller ahead of a three man mid field. And I would prefer Macheda mining up next to Owen or Javi. All three have a point to prove. Macheda's been superb with his intelligence and link up play every time he's come on. His pass to Javi for the winner at Valencia was a gem. He should start in absence of Wazza. Owen after a spell on the sidelines and Javi after his clean-as-a-whistle strike at the Mestalla will both make a pressing case for a start. More than Macheda perhaps. But starting with both will mean, palying with 9 men trying to get last ball to 2 men. Waste of a player, IMO. But atleast, we have some options here.
The defence looks stable but doesn't exactly pick itself. Rafael was good without being spectacular against Valencia. He should start. Vidic with 2 starts in the week, and Rio with 90 minutes three days ago, need a break though we can ill afford it. Darren Bent's form calls for one or both of them to be lining up in defence but I can see Evans edging Rio just as a precaution. Depending on how lightly Sir Alex is going to take the Balck Cat's potence up front, Wes Brown and Chris Smalling might get a look in, to releive Vidic. I don't see it happening though.
Evra was, for the first time in 2 years, less than spectacular in the mid week. But he was REALLY less than spectacular. Pablo Hernandez ghosted past him enough times to make a strong case for a chant of 'Fergie Fergie Sign Him Up'. But that apart, perhaps the French captain needs a breather. Fabio has stepped up quite well when called up.
Injury to ex-Red Devil, Fraizer Campbell and Danny Welbeck's loan clause mean that Steve Bruce is down to two strikers for the header. Maybe a 4-5-1 will make Fergie rest both Rio n Vida.
It promises to be an intriguing weekend.
Wish list:
Regulation win at Sunderland.
Arsenal emulate City and stop the Blue war machine
And just for kicks, Newcastle beat City, Andy Carroll nets a few and Fabio calls him up.

Errr....

The breeze was like a raging stream, flooding through the narrow, snaky streets of Poitiers. The 10 degree C wind with nigh a touch of moisture hit his already dry and parched face like a block of dry ice. Winter was setting in. And it would get progressively worse. Till it reached a point where the French, enjoying a 'bright day' all around him, would fire up the heaters, down the shutters, and disappear into hibernation. He remembered the previous morning and laughed to himself at what lay in store. Waiting in front of class, he had been greeted by the Professor. "Ca va?" Teeth chattering and his whole body shivering like a leaf, he had managed to say something that sounded like "Bit… col.. outhere". The man's you-ain't-seen-nothing-yet smile  spoke for him.

But strangely, his reaction to the temperature dropping to a single digit was decidedly different from the last couple of days when it had dilly dallied between ten and fifteen. There was no jacket today. The shivering was absent from his gait and the relaxed jaw showed no signs of chattering. He seemed just as impervious to it as the other street dwellers were. What was it about the 30th of September that was drowning out the effect of an alien climate?

His school was half way around the block. His mind, was halfway around the World. A billion people, two of the oldest cultures in the World, with the most complicated and difficult of pasts between them and the land that's seen it and borne it all for centuries, stood still and waited with bated breath. 6 centuries after the first brick was placed, 60 years after the first idol was placed, 18 years after the multicultural fabric was ripped apart beyond repair, India awaits. It would be settled today. Would it be settled today? No, lemme rephrase it. Would it be settled today? If so, then would it be settled today? Digging up Ayodhya is done. Now the grave digging begins.

He paused for a second. Was that what was making him impervious to the cold? The anxiety of what was happening back home? Fear of what was to be unleashed on his country? The 'yes' from his mouth was drowned by the 'no' from his mind.

"Of course I care!"

"Yeah right. Pull the other leg, Naldo!"

Much as he wanted to believe otherwise, much as he tried to bring up instances to prove otherwise, in spite of all the patriotic hormones that he tried generating, he knew it was a losing battle. Somewhere in him, with roots deep enough survive the storm of 30/9 was the undeniable fact. That he didn't care. At least, not enough to be oblivious to what was happening around him.

He walked into the school, relishing the warm atmosphere. Though he hadn't felt much outside, this was where he wanted to be. His mind strayed from the dimly lit corridors of the school to the muddy, unpaved streets of Ayodhya that he had never seen.

"Salut!", he turned to see the face he had seen enough times to remember in class.

"Salu……" , as it turned out, not enough times to remember her name. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm good. How are you? Nice party last night?"

"I wasn't there. I saw the mail from the organizers… guess I'm too old for that stuff! "

She laughed, betraying the mockery ill-concealed beneath the humor. Well, one couldn't really argue that he didn't deserve it.

"Er… I read something on the internet yesterday. Some mosque judgment today in India?"

Sigh! "Yeah. Big day back home. Lotta security, communal tension and all that stuff. It's gonna be out in a few hours.Kinda nervous about the whole thing"

"What is it all about?"

He had tried many times and failed to imitate the French way of doing "poof!", the reaction that you get when you ask them something complicated. This time, he nailed it. "It's… kinda complicated. Six centuries old story."

His hunch about what that kind of a party does to people's heads was vindicated when she, with a look not unlike the perennial 'spark' on Paris Hilton's face said "Tell me tell me!"

"OK, I'll give you an analogy first."

"An anal….?", her eyes popped ever so little but that was enough.

"No no! It's not… that. Analogy means… er… something similar. An example."

"Ah. Yeah. Example. " The Hiltonian expression returns.

What example can I give? He thought. Ofcourse! When in doubt, talk football! "OK, imagine that England and France are one country."

"Oui"

"Now, Bobby Charlton, British legend. Thierry Henry. French legend. Remember, both of them belong to the same country now. Imagine that an asteroid struck the Earth after Charlton retired and all records of his achievements are lost. The new generation just knows that a legendary player called Charlton existed and played for Britance. A new stadium is built in Normandy and they name it Bobby Charlton Arena. Thierry Henry hits the World stage and becomes the legend that he is. And retires eventually. His followers decide that Charlton is just a myth ('cos there's no proof of his existence) and rename the stadium in Normandy, Thierry Henry Arena. Centuries pass. Bobby Charlton and Thierry Henry are long dead after unforgettable careers and fulfilling lives. One fine day, Charlton's followers put his pictures on the emblem  of Thierry Henry Arena. Both parties clash. Thousands die. The stadium is shut down. Decades later, Charlton's followers destroy the stadium's Henry emblem, with an intent to put a new Charlton emblem on it. Both parties clash, thousands die. Things can never, ever, be the same between the two sides again. And today, the court in Normandy is going to decide whose face will decorate the emblem and whose name will grace the stadium. And whatever they decide, both sides will clash. And thousands will die.'

The Hilton look was gone but… that's all one could've said about the look on her face. "And?"

"And that's it! In a nut shell."

"But… it's just a game. And a name!"

Was it?? "I wish it were that simple. The side that loses, loses face. They'll feel humiliated."

"So why can't they have two stadia?"

"One next to the other? They'll kill each other in half a day."

"OK then... have the other at some other place!"
"Can't do that. Henry and Charlton were both born in Normandy. It has to be there."

"Er… so what are they gonna do about it?"

He shrugged. A billion people waited for the answer. "What would you do?"

"Er…" The 'rrrrr' has lasted for 60 years. Does it end today?

A Bit More Of The Same Lunacy

OK this is ONLY 'cos I felt guilty about not having posted anything in a long time. A thorough search of the Recluse' archives threw up...
This. Here goes...

stupid observation i made long ago
long long ago in a diary on the go
to prop up morale ever so low
and pour it all out in a flow

and in a rickety ride n amidst the clouds,
in a seedy lodge n swaying moods
I dragged my mind out of the woods
With nigh more than words

Of a time when the clouds chilled my head
and pages and pages of Sparks I read
and thoughts of lunacy, in my head I bred
From one to another, thoughts led

Oh boy! was I a fool!

Empress

Finally it took a moralising monologue from Lord Emsworth to drag Empress back onto her breezy path from her road to revolutionary reconfiguration of the pen.
Oh how he liked the look of unbridled joy on her face as she revelled in the attention showered on her by Snowball and Napoleon. Their hefty human master and his bumbling, babbling bunch of assistants vanquished from their farm and power finally in the hands of the animals led by snowball and napoleon, the grass was finally green as ever; And the apples, red and juicy like never before. The new era was here.
Alas, the wily humans found a trap door. As one of them said, "Well odysseus, you found a way to make the lambs invite the wolves for dinner". And dine, did the humans. The apples shrank, the grass turned dry, the animals found their portions halved. Poor heathens, ran, they did, to Empress. "Help!", the cried. "We want more!", they chorused. "Men!", they seethed. And nay a moment of rest did Empress savour. Nigh impossible did she find it to stroll by the lake, let her hair loose in the breeze and converse with her consort. "Ouch! There's a nail in my shoe! The clouds are turning grey! What am I gonna do? And the Sun's going down too!"
In the pouring rain and the slippery mud, she traipsed back to the pen, desolate, lonely and desperate for that long lost melancholy. And there, in the pouring rain and slippery mud, amidst the clueless and the carelss, did Lord Emsworth find Empress. In need of nigh more than a look of love, nigh more than a semblance of care. And down he swooped on his companion of long. For, with Empress he dined and with Empress, he kept his woes in bind. And to Empress, he would show the merry land.
Hence, he set upon his street of salvation to drag Empress by the scruff of it's neck barely recognizable from it's face and trunk to it's long forgotten breezy, carefree path. And, munching on the generous bits of mulberry Lord Elmsworth spoilt her with, happily she lived ever after. Animal welfare.

Harry Red-Champ!

Finally!! A dozen transfers, five seasons of heart break after heartbreak, replays, controversies, and three different managers later, Spurs, mercifully, make the cut for the Champions League. Peter Crouch's 50 million pound goal will be remembered by White Hart Lane faithful for ages to come. It propels Spurs to the Champions League Playoffs for the first time since 1962 and probably even the main draw if they win and Fulham beat Arsenal on the last day of the season. While the third place finish seems like a pie in the sky, nothing about this season or Arsenal and Fulham's form has suggested that an upset is not on cards. What the hell, it wouldn't even be an upset considereing Fulham's European fairy tale run and Your's Truly competing with Lukasz Fabianski and David Seaman for the coveted spot between the sticks. But irrespective of what happens on Sunday, Spurs can look back at an incredible 20 months. Looking at where they were in the table October before last, if someone had told me that Spurs will be fighting for something this day, I would'v been justified in thinking they would be fighting with Newcastle United and West Brom Albion for a direct ticket up from the Fizz Pop league. That they had an outside chance of qualifying for Europa League last season and that they've displaced Liverpool from the 'Big Four' this season is testament to the work that Harry Redknapp has put in. Spurs had two points from eight games and were rock bottom in the table when he took over from Juande Ramos (Remember him? He's at Real Madrid now. No wait, that was 10 months ago. It's CSKA Moscow now. Shit, no! That was eight months and 2 weeks ago. Hmmmm, where is he ow by the way?) To propel them from those lows to a fourth place finish within in a season and a half... it's been a phenomenal jorney for the tactician.

Just how badly Spurs wanted to break into the top four and qualify for the Champions league is highlighted by the sum spent on transfers. Since July 2008, the list of players who have joined Spurs is long and reads something like this: Jermain Defoe, Roman Pavlyuchenko, Peter Crouch, Wilson Palacios, Luka Modric, David Bentley, Sebastian Bassong, Gareth Bale, Heurelho Gomes, Niko Krajcar, Robbie Keane (out, in, out again), Benoit Assou-Ekotto, Geovani Dos Santos, Eidur Gudjonsson, Alan Hutton... phew! It's an incredible accumulation of pace, flair, solodity and creativity. And it's an expensive accumulation at that; not more than a couple of them were acquired for less than eight figures.

The transfers apart, just the motive behind some of the transfers have shown how desperate Spurs were for European football. Manchester United's entire defensive line save Patrice Evra was wiped out for a month and their response was to play Darren Fletcher and Michael Carrick as centre backs apart from relying on youngsters Ritchie De Laet and Oliver Gill. Compare this to Spurs; Luka Modric got himself injured at the beginning of the season for a couple of months and presto! In comes Niko Kranjcar from Portsmouth to cover for him. That elusive fourth spot has beome nothing short of an obsession for Spurs, Villa, Everton and from this season, Man City (sigh!). All of them have chosen different paths to try and reach the summit.

Aston Villa with Martin O'Neill's policy of predominantly buying cheap British talent almost broke the top four bastion last season. If it hadn't been for a spectacular dip in form towads the latter half of the season and THAT remember-my-face-for-a-couple-of-dacades goal by Kiko (Oh that boy!!) Macheda in the dying moments of their Old Trafford visit, Villa could well have edged Arsenal out of Champions League spots. That they fell short in spite of the heroics of Milner, Young and Agbonlahor shows just how hard it is to find your way past Arsenal and Liverpool (Don't even think of United and Chelsea here).

Everton with it's excellent bunch of academy kids and David Moyes' preference for versatility in his transfer targets have been there and thereabouts since they actually broke through to finish fourth in 2005-06.

Man City have kept it simple. The Real Madrid-Chelsea way. "How much for a Champions League spot?" Sparky Hughes thought he had the asnwer to it until Michael Owen popped up and in Alan Smith's frenzied words, "With his first Old Trafford goal for Machester United, makes the place erupt!". Owen also erupted a few fragile tempers in the desert and at the blink of an eye, Roberrtthhhho Manchheeeni had taken over. By the look on Sheikh Mansour's face when Peter Crouch headed past Martin Fulop, Mr. Hot Scarves doesn't seem to have the answer either. Harry Redknapp, however, has the answer, "Nothing". You simply can't buy your way to the Champions League. Atleast, not it one season. Mancini to his credit, has done a decent job on the field and in the transfer market. Adam Johnson might yet turn out to be the best piece of business City did amidst the arrivals of Tevez, Adebayor, Santa Cruz and Robinho (ha ha ha ha ha! Imagine what City, Real or Chelsea would pay to have the old Robinho back and playing in their colors!). I usually hate it when I hear people talking ill of the Middle East but after looking at the circus that the Sheikhs have converted Eastlands into, I can't help but roll my eyes and tail of with a "Well er..." when I hear stuff like, "That's why God gave them camels and not clubs to run".

Spurs, on the other hand, have gone about the job in their own way. They've bought players when they had to and at other times, have simply changed their system to raise their game. Harry Redknapp hasn't just brought success, he's brought a new way of playing to Spurs. Gone are the days when their defending used to sway from ridiculous clowns in blue and white to get-the-f***-outta-here. Michael Dawson, Sebastian Bassong, Ledley King, Assou-Ekotto and more recently, Gareth Bale have evolved into a formidable unit (just ask Chelsea and Arsenal). The midfield has a more settled feel to it with the arrival of Wilson Palacios and emergence of Tom Huddlestone. Creativity has never been their weak point and the arrival of the Croats Modric and Kranjcar has enhanced it further. Aaron lennon has truly developed into a World Class winger, what with his blistering pace and motly bag of tricks. Even patrice Evra has found it difficult to live with him. Their backup players do seem to be able to step up and deliver when needed (Did anyone know who the hell Danny Rose was till the derby??)

The work has shown in the results and they've emerged as one of the most consistent units in the EPL this season. More than Everton and Villa and certainly more than Man City and Liverpool (Ah Scousers! What has become of the team I knew, respected and despised in equal measure??), Spurs deserve their spot amongst Europe's elite. How far they can make it in the Champion's League remains to be seen. But considering the quality they have, it won't be surprising at all if they pull their weight and dump some regular European biggie in the latter stages. That's the difference between a new English team in the Champions League and a new team from some other country. The competition for the at 4th spot is so intense and the gap between the big four the next 4 has reduced significantly. Spurs won't feel out of place at all in the Champions league. They could go some distance even with their current lot. And if Harry gets to make a big splash in the transfer window, it's gonna be one hell of a Spurs outfit lining up against Real Madrid and Inter Milan in five months time.

The Curious Case of Dimitar Berbatov

He doesn’t show enough commitment to the team… He’s lazy… He’s too slow on the pitch… He doesn’t care about the team… He’s an introvert… Every catcall in the book has been heard about Manchester United’s enigmatic no.9. For a man who’s 18 months at Old Trafford have evoked such extreme reviews, Dimitar Berbatov’s Manchester United career started off on a brilliant note. The cross from near the goal line to setup Carlos Tevez for United’s first and only goal at Anfield in their 2-1 loss to Liverpool announced his arrival louder than his $30 million price tag. The deft tricks and stunning touches that had held the World in awe during his spell at White Hart Lane were expected to take Old Trafford by storm. It was supposed to be a dream combination. Wazza with his marauding, lung-bursting runs and Berba with his classic flicks and touches. 6 months later, the knives were out and the catcalls had started. The crowd was clearly not impressed with the Bulgarian’s nonchalance. The people who mattered, to their credit, made the right moves though. Sir Alex Ferguson, in spite of the presence of Carlos Tevez, continued to persist with Berbatov and Berbatov on his part, continued to put in his best.
True, he doesn’t have Ronaldo’s bag of tricks or Rooney’s level of involvement in the game or Darren Fletcher and Ji Sung Park’s work rate and this is what the fans love to watch but Berbatov has quietly gone about doing what he does best, pulling the strings from ‘the hole’. He’s a peculiar kind of player, he drops in behind the lone man and sets up attack after attack. He’s a master at reading the opposition’s defence and picking passes through them. Now it’s easy to see a Xavi Alonso or a Francesc Fabregas in this kind of a role in central midfield but Berbatov, labelled a striker, has been doing just that. Can you call him an out and out striker? Nope. He’s too slow for that simply doesn’t score enough goals. Can you call him an attacking midfielder of the Kaka, Wesley Sneijder type? Not really. The trickery is missing. Can you call him a midfield playmaker? No way! He plays too high up for that and doesn’t really drop back to help the defence. And he’s labelled a striker.
At a club like United where 20 goals per season are a pre requisite for a first choice striker, his lack of goals was always going to be a problem. Let’s face it, the guys who donned the striker role before him had an insatiable lust for goals. There was Ruud van Nistelrooy with a goals per game ratio that won’t be beaten in a few decades. There was Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, there’ll never be a man like the baby faced assassin again. There were Andy Cole and Dwight Yorke before them and more recently, Cristiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney. Now Berbatov will never be mentioned in the same breath as these names when it comes to pure goal scoring instinct. So it was only natural that the crowd would run out of patience with him soon. Not that they don’t like anyone other than the most absurdly talented bunch of players named above. Lesser talented men like Park Ji Sung have become Old Trafford favourites simply because of their sheer determination and work rate. Any United fan would swear by his life that Park would die trying rather than give up. And they adore him for that. Now why don’t they like Berbatov the way they like Park? It’s the man’s demeanour. He’s emotionless, he doesn’t show commitment, the whole list of catcalls start all over again. Now, the fans seeing only the visible side of Berbatov and the club seeing only his visible side are two entirely different issues. Surely, a man of Sir Alex Ferguson’s experience would’ve known what Berbatov was all about before getting on Juande Ramos’ nerves and stretching them right to the limit before landing his striker on transfer deadline day. And amidst all the calls to drop Berba and play Tevez, Sir Alex would surely have known the value of the man he was being urged to axe. True, he stuck it out with Berba and gave him enough chances though it led to the eventual transfer of Carlos Tevez.
Now into his second season at Old Trafford, where does all this leave Berbatov? First choice striker alongside Wayne Rooney. But then, with Michael Owen as the backup striker and the other options being the untested Mame Biram Diouf and teenagers Danny Welbeck and Federico Macheda, you would expect Berbatov to be Rooney’s undisputed strike partner. But is he really? A comparison of the number of games played by United no.9 and 10 say an entirely different story. Rooney has not just emerged from Ronaldo’s shadow, he’s grown into a talisman, he’s Mr.United. The best striker in the World at the moment (ok Blaugrana, I’m a United fan). And Berbatov, has shrunk in comparison. A look at the contributions of support strikers in the big teams across Europe show Berbatov is not Rooney’s partner but backup. Chelsea: Nicolas Anelka has played every match against the top 5-6 clubs in the EPL and in the Champion’s League. Liverpool and Arsenal: They always play the lone man up front to pack up the midfield but in Arsenal’s case, either Nicklas Bendtner or Eduardo partnered Robin Van Persie in attack on most occasions before the Dutch hitman pulled up for the season. Barcelona: La Liga, Copa Del Ray, Champions League, whatever be the tournament, Pep Guardiola’s juggernaut rumbles on without compromising on 3 men up front. It’s only a question of whether to play Thierry Henry or Pedro Rodriguez. And that’s more of a transition than anything else.Real Madrid: Apart from El Ron, they always Raul or Benzema alongside Higuain. Rarely is it Ronaldo and Higuain alone. Atletico: Aguero, Forlan and 9 others. Every match, every tournament. Inter Milan: Jose Mourinho’s carefully assembled outfit rolls with an intimidating striking line up of Samuel Eto’o, Diego Milito, Goran Pandev and Wesley Sneijder these days. It’s the same line up whether they’re playing Catania or Chelsea. AC Milan: For all the talk about Leonardo’s team being packed with pensioners, they continue to play an attacking brand of football with Pato, Ronaldinho and either Huntelaar or Boriello playing up front. And the number of strikers didn’t drop even when facing United at Old Trafford (That they got walloped is for another day).Bayern Munich: Two of Mario Gomez, Miroslav Klose and Thomas Muller line up every match.And United? Rooney and Berbatov against Blackburn, Hull, Wolves, Portsmouth, Wolfsburg and Sunderland. Rooney all alone against Chelsea, Arsenal, Liverpool, Barcelona, CSKA Moscow, AC Milan, Manchester City, Everton and Aston Villa. If a player, after moving to a top club for a record transfer fee, doesn’t get to play the matches that really define a top club, was it really worth moving in the first place? Would Berbatov feel more happy sitting on the bench in all the Champions League knock out round matches, play 20 minutes a match and pick up a Champions League winners’ medal? Or would he have been better off staying at White Hart Lane as Spurs’ frontline striker, play every match of the season, compete for a top four finish, lead his team to the Champions League and line up against the likes of Ronaldo, Messi and Pato? Needless to say, he would’ve been Harry Redknapp’s first name on the team list if he had stayed at Spurs. A lot of strikers have moved in and out of White Hart Lane after Berbatov but one can safely assume that he would’ve been partnering Jermain Defoe up front in every match, had he stayed there. Looking at the way things are turning out for Spurs this season, they’re primed for a top four finish, meaning Champions League football next season. Jermain Defoe will line up next to Peter Crouch or Roman Pavlyuchenko against the best of Europe while Berbatov will warm the bench and watch Rooney play all alone. With Sir Alex Ferguson repeating it often these days that the 80 million pounds received for Ronaldo’s transfer is burning a hole in his wallet, it might well be the case that a certain big name striker from Valencia might find his way to Old Trafford. And that, would effectively mean the end of Berbatov’s stay at United. But even if there is no significant addition of strikers to United’s roster next season, is the no.9 jersey and a spot on the bench in the big games, really worth it for Berbatov? It’s going to be an interesting phase from now till the end of the end of the summer transfer window for United and Berbatov. Whether it’s a window of opportunity for Berbatov or a window to splash in for United, remains to be seen.

How does it feel...

How does it feel when...

U know it's ur friend's birthday
And the friend is important in a very special way

U know u have to call and wish
And do something other than the usual cliche

U know u have to make it crazy
And not sit around like a pig so lazy

U even know what to do
And make it a day that saw us start anew

U know u wanna do this more than any of the million assignments lighting a stove under ur backside
And get that delightful feeling of having followed ur heart,

U know u can make this happen
And make up for all that happened when u were smitten

U know it's the presence of those memories that's making u float
And making your heart swell

U know this is the one thing u'll wanna do that day
if that's all u can do that day
and it's ur last day on earth

And then u realize...

The friend is important in a special way
But she would tear u apart if she could find a way

U have to do something other than the usual cliche
But trying to do even that is making you say "How I wish..."

U shouldn't sit around like a lazy pig
But if u did anything more, u'll be the lady's nasty li'l bug

U want to make it a day that saw you start Anew
But within a minute of you logging in to Facebook, she disappears as if on cue

U want that delightful feeling of having followed your heart
But doing just that is what has led to this fateful part

U want make up for all that happened
But even a word about it can bring the universe crashing down

U want this to be the last thing you do if that day is to be THE day
But realize you might not get to do it even till your eventual day of reckoning...

How does it feel?