MANCHESTER, England, Sept 16 - Barcelona staged a dramatic
fightback from 2-0 down to hold Manchester United to a 3-3
draw in their Champions League Group D match at Old
Trafford on Wednesday.
Group D -------
W L T F A PTS
1 0 0 2 1 3 Brondby
0 0 1 3 3 1 Barcelona
0 0 1 3 3 1 Man United
0 1 0 1 2 0 Bayern Munich
September 16 matches:
Brondby (Denmark) 2 - 1 Bayern Munich (Germany)
Manchester United (England) 3 - 3 Barcelona (Spain)
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- Becks Magnificent Free Kick! 3-2
- Manchester United (2) 3 v Barcelona 3 (0)
- Butt sent off as Barcelona fight back in thrilling
Champions' League opener
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United hit by spot of bother
BY KEVIN MCCARRA
THE magnificence of the spectacle cannot take the sourness
from the mouths of Manchester United. When they led
Barcelona 2-0 in the first of their European Cup Champions'
League matches last night, it seemed that their crushing
domination was to be rewarded. When the visitors, goaded by
desperation, responded, however, United's defence was
broken. After the interval, Alex Ferguson's team conceded
two penalties and had Nicky Butt sent off for conceding the
second of them. A free kick from Beckham briefly put them
3-2 ahead, but the efforts of men such as Figo and Luis
Enrique had reduced United to incoherence. The
disappointment was all the more severe since, at first, it
appeared that they were free of fallibility. Vexation over
United's capitulation in defence will have to be tempered by
recognition of Barcelona's courageous panache in forcing
themselves free of early traumas.
There will be foreboding, too, about United's future if
they have not yet learnt to protect an advantage. There is
a duty, nonetheless, to salute an occasion that was a
restitution of old values to a competition that has been
demeaned by constant meddling with its structure. Ability
and daring combined to produce a contest in which the wills
and abilities of two teams were, ultimately, too
well-matched for either to be sure of the upper hand.
Initially, it was United who struck the perfect balance
between vigour and watchfulness. All of the muddle was in
the minds of Barcelona, since Louis van Gaal, the coach,
set out adventurous players in a cautious system. By the
middle of the first half, the United supporters,
prematurely, were sufficiently relaxed to turn their minds
to impishness. "You should have signed for a big club,"
they chanted at Kluivert, the Holland forward - ineligible
for this game, who had spurned Old Trafford to sign for
Barcelona. It was an instinctive response to the delights
that United, all too briefly, provided. They sensed
weakness, particularly in the full back positions of the
Spanish champions. Luis Enrique, who would later prove so
influential, and Sergi prefer to advance and they are
dejected when limited to sentry duty. Spirits, in any case,
will falter whenever Beckham and Giggs are as assertive as
this. The width of a pitch apart, they still combined in
the tenth minute, when Beckham's angled pass put Giggs
behind the defence. Solskjaer, reaching to make contact
with the cut-back, hit the bar. Barcelona, during that
spell, failed to hold possession and in every area of the
field a quick- witted United read their opponents'
intentions.
The relentlessness of the attacking inspired Giggs, whose
runs were full of a jubilant spring. His goal was an
expression of euphoria, so uncharacteristic was it. Yorke,
in the sixteenth minute, found Beckham, who outpaced Sergi
before flighting the deep cross that saw Giggs leap to
finish with a battering header. It only took another eight
minutes before United scored again, but so great was their
domination that there was still a sense of delay. Beckham
lifted the ball in with his left foot and Yorke's overhead
kick was composed of equal parts of imagination and
athleticism. Although Hesp, the goalkeeper, parried,
Scholes, predatory as ever, converted the rebound. Only
slowly did Barcelona escape their bemusement.
Over half an hour had passed before they had any cause to
complain of ill-fortune, but then they were wronged.
Rivaldo's shot took a deflection to find the net, but
Stefano Braschi, the referee, denied them the goal by
ruling, incorrectly, that Anderson was offside. Anderson
was also to be thwarted, in legitimate manner, by
Schmeichel's save in the 43rd minute. Barcelona had been
playing so clumsily that a recovery should have been
expected. United found it impossible to deal with the
abrupt change of tone and Barcelona had their first goal
after 47 minutes.
The Old Trafford side were not trenchant enough on the edge
of their penalty area and Rivaldo was able to force play
through to Anderson, who drove high into the net. The first
of Barcelona's penalties, after 58 minutes, was hotly
disputed, but brought the equaliser. Luis Enrique squared
and Rivaldo went down as Stam challenged. To a backing
track of boos, Giovanni drilled the ball into the net. The
match had spiralled into delirium and, in that frantic
atmosphere, United recovered the lead within five minutes.
Abelardo fouled Yorke and, from 25 yards, Beckham curled an
authoritative free kick into the net. By now the game had
passed into a beguiling state of anarchy. The mayhem
included the third of Barcelona's goals. Luis Enrique
twisted away from Giggs and Irwin before directing the
cross that Anderson headed onto the bar. In the ensuing
melee, Zenden attempted to finish before Butt handled
Figo's shot and was shown the red card. Enrique forced home
the penalty. United's ambitions had shrunk and they were
forced to clutch the draw as if it were a gleaming prize.
MANCHESTER UNITED (4-4-2): P Schmeichel - G Neville, J
Stam, H Berg, D Irwin (sub: P Neville, 78min) - D Beckham,
R Keane, P Scholes, R Giggs (sub: J Blomqvist, 82) - D
Yorke, O G Solskjaer (sub: N Butt, 54).
BARCELONA (4-1-4-1): R Hesp - L Enrique, F Abelardo, M
Reiziger, Sergi - P Cocu - L Figo, Giovanni (sub: Xavi,
68), Rivaldo, B Zenden - S Anderson. Referee: S Braschi
(Italy).
Copyright 1998 Times Newspapers Ltd.
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The Barca Beat
By RED KELLY
It was nice to get back on the road again after an
extremely hectic few days working for the cause, whether it
was nice being in the sausage-mobile is debatable.
Four of us set off from here at around 3pm to meet the
sausageman at Hilton Park. The journey was good and we
arrived on time for once. Sitting in Burger King munching a
double cheeseburger I had no idea why BDS asked me to toss
a coin for heads or tails as to who out of the two of us
would sit in the front. "but you're driving" I said in all
innocence, "do you want me to drive then?" "No we're going
in Dobson's car" "What, it's not big enough" I exclaimed "I
know, that's why we're tossing the coin!"
In fact I won the toss, but because BDS is the taller of
the two of us and had complained of a bad back I allowed
him to sit in the front seat and squeezed into the back
with Nigel and Dr Mark.
And it WAS a squeeze. With my knees up against my chin for
the rest of the journey, my only pleasures being a box of
chocolates that was handed round and some hearty banter
about the Loaded magazine Dr Mark was reading. Happily the
journey was uneventful and we arrived at Bronnington in good
time to get to the Dog to meet with Richard and Nick and
then on to the Throstles. Remembering the journey up on
Saturday when we seemed to be avoiding accidents by
micro-seconds, we counted ourselves fortunate. The M6
usually throws up at least one delay, but four accidents on
a journey that's supposed to take no more than two hours
was a bit much. The last of those was a huge pile up on the
south bound carriageway involving around twenty vehicles
which caused a monumental tail-back. It all makes matchday
travel a precarious business.
Walking up to OT in a howling gale I wondered why I hadn't
considered the temperature change and the time of year and
dressed accordingly, but as it happens, by the end of the
night it wasn't that cold at all. It was bloody wet though!
We arrived on the forecourt to be greeted by hoards of
people having their photographs taken in front of Sir
Matt's statue. Hopefully they knew who he was and what he
did for the club but did they have to stand there with loads
of megastore bags at their feet when they were being
snapped.
Then the white tornado ran past. What was this bloke doing
at 6 o'clock on the evening of a big Euro game running down
Warwick Road in a T-shirt and white lycra cycling shorts
dodging his way through the bemused crowds? White
lightening or what!!
The Dog was packed, but didn't seem as packed as usual.
Maybe some of the patrons were away on IMUSA business or
maybe it was just because we were earlier than usual.
Richard gave me the programme form Lotz which is totally
incomprehensible but interesting for it's novelty value.
The Lotz team picture shows a group of players all but two
of whom were shaven headed - had they had a plague of nits
in the dressing room then? And to mirror this an AD for
'Gipsar' whatever that is, with another bald bloke
superimposed on twenty odd repeated images of his bald
head. Is this normal in that neck of the woods? Is everyone
is a slap head because if it is normal I could get a job
very easily out there, not that I want one!
The United pen pics are also amusing because they comprise
of each individual player in his own oblong picture box,
but instead of the players being photographed separately
the picture boxes comprise of close ups from the full team
photo. This has lead to many heads being seen with other
body parts and other heads, the most amusing of which is
Andy Cole who seems to be resting his chin on Raimonds head
and all you can see of Raimond is the top of his head and
his eyes - bit like CHAD - wot no chin? Old farts only will
remember Chad.
It was then on to the Throstles which was packed full of
list members too numerous to mention. A pint in each set us
up for the evenings entertainment which for the time being
would wholly distract us from our quest to 'SAVE OUR GAME'.
There's a different atmosphere at Old Trafford on European
nights you can smell it as long as you are far enough away
from Dobson that is! Everything looks the same as you walk
down to the ground but there's a special buzz about the
place, a buzz of history and past glories. These are really
special nights.
Inside the ground the teams were about to come out when we
took our seats. Actually we didn't take our seats at all
because we were all stood up throughout the whole game. A
magnanimous gesture by our friends at SPS who must have
been directed from on high to let us be for one night
especially considering the conflicts over the last few
days. Good move Arthur!! Possibly the most sensible thing
you have ever done.
It was great to be standing again with the freedom to move
around and the freedom to express ourselves which was made
all the more pleasant by the offer of a very tasty cup of
'coffee' from one of our regular companions to my left.
Needless to say the coffee was a thin disguise for the real
contents of the plastic cup and it went down a treat! It
tastes all the better if you're not supposed to be doing it!
The match itself started at a pace and carried on all the
way through. We were in good voice with all the usual songs
given a Euro airing and when Becks crossed for Giggs to
head home the first goal we were flung into an ecstacy
reserved only for those special European occasions. All
around those who are normally reserved were going berserk
and those of us who are not normally reserved went berserk
as usual.
United piled on the pressure attacking the K Stand goal
right in front of us and were playing more like the 93-94
double team than at anytime since. Yorke seems to have made
the difference and one can only hope he continues to be the
catalyst just as Eric was a few years ago. His first touch,
ball shielding and vision are excellent which allows others
time to join the play.
It was a real pleasure to be treated to such a display of
attacking prowess and Barca were nowhere.
If the first goal sent us into raptures then the second
sent us straight to heaven. Another Becks cross met by a
magnificent Yorke overhead kick which the goalkeeper
couldn't hold and a tap in from Scholsey. When the ball
came over towards Yorke and we saw him twist his body to
shape for the overhead we couldn't believe our eyes, when
he smashed the ball so straight and true with such power we
were in awe. It reminded me of the first "KIng" of Old
Trafford and I cannot think of a better compliment to pay a
player.
Chorus upon chorus of "are you watching Kleivert" and "you
should have signed for a BIG club" scampered round the Old
Trafford terraces. Half time arrived and I disappeared
beneath K Stand to relieve myself along with 5000 others.
Last saturday I was waiting in line behind this bloke who
must have the bladder of an elephant because I was still
stood there as he relieved himself while those either side
of me came and went. Yesterday was different thank god.
As the teams came out for the second half and after another
swig of 'coffee' Steve said "3 - 2 Barcelona" I thanked him
for his optimism and he responded that he'd never been very
good at tipping anyway but when their first goal went in I
gave him a very hard stare. When the penalty was given he
received another.
I actually haven't watched the game on video yet but at the
time was convinced it was not a penalty and that Rivaldo
had dived and this has subsequently been offered as opinion
from several others. I thought the ref was one of the worst
I'd ever witnessed at OT and I've seen some poor ones in
the past none more so than those who'd been bribed by
Italians in the sixties. I bet he must have been offered a
great time-share in southern Spain for the show he put on
last night.
So at 2 - 2 it looked as though Steve's prediction could
possibly be coming to pass when we were given a free kick
about 10 yards outside their area. Down at the Stretford
End Becks and Giggs were encouraging the Barca wall back
the requisite ten yards while down at the scoreboard end we
held our breath.
I remember thinking to myself, it would be wishful thinking
indeed if Becks could curl this one in especially as the
wall seemed to cover the whole of the goal. I remember
thinking that if I didn't think he could do it he may just
do it - when he bloody went and did it!
What seemed an age later I looked up and Becks and I think
two or three others had run over to the bench and were
celebrating in front of Fergie. I had disappeared into the
row behind and there was general chaos everywhere.
Unfortunately it was to be short lived as despite the fact
that Barca had forced the ball into the net after a
goalmouth scramble Nicky Butt who had hardly been on the
pitch for long handled on the line and was immediately
shown the red card.
The ref pulled the card out of his pocket so quick it never
touched the sides. His fingers had been twitching around it
for ages - pity he didn't pull it out for the constant
fouling and cheating from the Barca boys then. Or do we
call it professionalism when the continentals do it?
Down to ten men and 3 - 3 we girded ourselves for the worst
as wave after wave of Spanish attacks rained down in front
of us. The amount of space Rivaldo was finding was
unbelievable and the movement of the Barca boys was superb
to watch. Well it would have been had we not been so shit
scared of coming away from a game that promised so much
with absolutely nothing. The sucker punch was sure to
happen, but in the end we held out and it was with
considerable relief that we filed out of the ground to make
our ways back to the sausage wagon.
As I wandered back to the carpark I spied the man himself
in the distance half walking, half running through the rain
resplendent in his canary yellow fleece - like a Norfolk
sheep.
On the return journey we were treated to the morons who
phone into Richard Littlejhon's football talk-in who all
seemed to have been watching a different game to us as
United were definitely not good enough, should sell all but
three of the team and Fergie should go while he still has a
chance. What planet do these people live on.
The rest of the way home was again fairly uneventful apart
from the odd Dobson trade-mark which permeated the air and
caused mass opening of windows.
Copyright RED KELLY 1998
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Wed 26th Aug 1998
MAN UTD (2) 3 v 3 (0) Barcelona
Short Quick fire report .................
17 1-0 Becks Giggs Header 1-0
25 2-0 Becks Yorke overhead kick saved Scholes! 2-0
United on top in 1st half
Beckham/Giggs/Yorke super
Barcelona couple of good shots saved by Peter (Rivaldo dangerous)
2nd half was a completeley different game Barcelona
outplayed REDS BUT filmed a penalty and injured Giggs by
elbowing him out of the game
47 Anderson 2-1
60 Giovanni penalty 2-2 filmed penalty (no penalty for me)
64 BRILLIANT FREE KICK by BECKS TOP LEFT CORNER 3-2!
71 penalty this time ok Butt handled RED CARDED
Luis Enrique pen 3-3 United down to 10 men held on 3-3
I preferred the 1st half display 3-3 is a bad result we
needed to win :( Barry on Sweden TV3
A game of 2 halves........bet Fergie has a few harsh words
for the ref?
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