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) **************************** - 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 **************************** 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. *********************************** 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 ************************ 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? ********************