Order the bubbly, but keep it on ice

IT would be cheap and tired to suggest that Saturday made a nice change in Scousers complaining about being the victims of a robbery for once, so I will resist it.

Instead, in Shakespearean mode, we come to praise Shea-sar, not bury him. (Not enough available earth in concreted Stretford for the bulky latter task, anyway.)

Several papers labelled that last-minute scoring image “the luck of the Irish” but it’s all been about the luck of the Govanite, really. Fergie had the grace to admit it too, although it is easy to be magnanimous when you have weeping Scousers crushed underfoot.

Later Fergie would tell hacks, in a Champions-elect reflective mode that is now amply justified, I admit — that we would not now blow it as we did in 1998 because “then we had horrendous injuries; this time we have a strong squad.” Mmm. Half-right only, surely? The whole point is surely that we have been spared the exposure of what is actually a weak squad thanks to our wonderful injury-free good fortune, is it not? Even such pro-establishment voices as MUTV’s Lou Macari have felt emboldened enough in the past week to point to our overall deficiencies and a last minute shock cameo by Macari-target O’Pie doesn’t challenge that analysis one iota.

But let us not be sidetracked into such contentiousness; issues like this will be chewed over properly and with more honesty behind the scenes over the summer. Put it this way — if “luck of the Irish” O’Shea is still here this time next year, then I will concede he is clearly growing four leaf clovers by the score alongside his horde of lucky charms.

In the meantime, expect to see a ‘Private Eye’-style apology in a United fanzine or two shortly: “Readers may have been led to believe that we thought Mr O’Pie to be a feckless, fat, no-good scouse-lover when in fact we meant to say...” etc etc. I suspect it’s probably futile to wish that Saturday might somehow inspire a return of the John O’Shea who thrilled us at St James’ Park back in 2003 but somewhere deep in the Red heart, that hope lingers on.

Meanwhile, my own hope that my supposedly foolish autumn bet that United will win both the League and the European Cup will pay off is now looking somewhat less futile, hey? In fact, amidst the current euphoria, I wonder whether I missed an even better opportunity when I dismissed the 300-1 then offered against United repeating the ‘99 treble. But as Saturday’s eminently winnable quarter-final hoves into view, and tonight’s supposed formality sits up nicely for dispatch over the posts, you have to start considering that it might just be a goer. All that said, I see Lille scored four on Saturday and are, of course, burning with a completely misplaced sense of injustice after the first leg, so best not to indulge in anymore such treble talk until next week. Besides, as the pessimists point out: without Scholes, Larsson and perhaps Rooney, we may find that we are in for a harder time than expected over the next few weeks, if our squad cover is as over-rated as many of us fear.

Moreover, as The Guardian noted on Monday, “in some senses United have gone slightly awry. It has been a long while since they gave an outstanding display.” Indeed: whilst it would be absurd to say we are “limping” to the finish line, as we did in ‘98 or ‘92, neither are we applying the afterburners as stunningly as we did in 2003, for example. So I suppose the question is this: just how good would we have to be in order to beat some of the dross we are due to face in our last 9 games, anyway? Conclusion: yes, order the champagne to be delivered. But don’t uncork it yet.

I can almost see Fergie nodding in approval at that...

Richard Kurt is author of ‘The Red Army Years’ (to be republished in May).