Hated star Ronaldo heir to King Cantona’s throne

A MARVELLOUSLY silly tabloid story here in Britain yesterdaydeclared that the number one Google search this past year was for the phrase “I hate Ronaldo”.

This, of course, gladdens the Red heart even more than the boy’s fabulous second place in the Euro player of the year award (won deservedly by Kaka, who proved last April he is still ahead of Ronnie. For now.) Ronaldo has succeeded Cantona as the ultimate symbol of United flash and arrogance, and thus becomes the prime target for the ABU brigades, who still number in millions despite Chelsea’s surging attempt to displace us in the hate stakes.

Ronnie was the indisputable star of the show on Monday night, a bad-tempered Rooney understandably not quite living up to the pre-match hype given his long lay-off. And given his possible preoccupation: his great mate Ricky Hatton fights in Vegas on Saturday and mad rumours at OT have it that Roon, Rio and co are to hire a superfast exec jet to whizz them there straight after full time against Derby. If true, one suspects that Fergie will have received neither an invite to join them, nor any forewarning...

Still, who could begrudge the boys a glamour break? Monday was an almost effortless bounce back from the Reebok defeat, though not without its hairy moments, and it opens up what should be a relatively restful period for The Shirts: Saturday’s opposition are the second-worst in the division, and Roma next week is a dead rubber. The latter won’t be so restful for travelling Reds, at least 2000 of whom are still nobly prepared to journey to the scene of last season’s violent disgrace despite the redundancy of the fixture. I fear we may be devoting rather more attention to the pugilistic aspects after the match.

Incidentally, you may have heard that some Reds seemed to be getting into practise for next week’s likely necessary manoeuvres the other day when they mounted a surprise attack on the Glazers as they waddled out of a Manchester restaurant.

Amusingly, the assailants were armed only with ketchup bottles. If only the red that could well be spilled into the foaming Tiber next week could just be merely one of Heinz’s 57 varieties.

Speaking of Heinze, the traitor named Gabby was invoked by Fergie the other day as he discussed that great seasonal topic. No, not naughty children who don’t deserve Santa’s presents — Gabby, clearly, ought not dare open any smelly and/or gently smoking package Fergie might care to send him on the 25th — but the imminent transfer window.

Having first ruled out the necessity of any moves (usually a sure sign he is about to splash big), Fergie then went on to suggest that we might need fullback cover given Heinze’s desertion. Sagnol at Bayern has been mentioned as someone who could fill Gary Neville’s backdoor hole, and the whisperers still suggest Steven Taylor might yet have a shout — he will doubtless be as desperate as the rest of the poor saps at St James to flee Fat Sam’s joyless labour camp. As long as no-one is suggesting we give would-be escapee Michael Owen yet another chance to join us: he blew it in 2005 and should now be told where he can stuff his ever-flimsy limbs. An older, shorter, scouse-er Saha is not required, ta.

Elsewhere, as the world and his wife now knows, Anelka is subject to a three-way tussle between us, City and Chelsea, with City having apparently convinced Bolton they want Nik more than we do, but conceding that Chelsea remain in pole. The London Daily Mail briefly but correctly reported that Blackburn’s Benni McCarthy is Chelsea’s fallback target: the player himself told a Red Issue operative at the weekend that he has a chance of going to the Bridge in January.

Personally, I would rather United lose out up front altogether — ie Berbatov stays at Spurs, Anelka goes to City and McCarthy to Chelsea — than us risk the contamination of the surly Parisian git in our squad.

Nevertheless, it is quite obvious to most fans that we do have a slight achilles heel up front, as demonstrated by the effect of the absence of Rooney and Ronaldo at the Reebok. Fergie often cites the 1999 four-striker rotational choice as his ideal and, given that we all appear to have ruled out Saha ever amounting to anything approaching reliability, we are surely one short of that ideal, no? M’eh. We are in for weeks of this guff now. I will try to spare you the worst here, unless I have something firm to impart. For a natural gossip and trader of rumour, that is some sacrifice on my part. Call it an early Christmas present, lads...

Richard Kurt, whose “Red Army Years” is only available via [e-mail]