Qatari gold may be on the horizon for Fergie

HERE we go again: another Sunday, another Qatari takeover story, this time in the News Of The World, and rather better sourced than you might imagine.

All I can tell you is that we might be hearing more on this, concretely, in about two weeks’ time. But for now, let us stick to the other main event on Sunday, namely the Spurs match. “High octane rather than high quality,” opined one hack, and it’s hard to quibble with that.

Not for the first time, I foundmyself lusting (platonically) after Modric, much as I used to do after Berbatov when he was at the Lane, and he was apparently top ofour target list a year ago: sadly, I think that ship’s sailed now. Spurs did only manage two shots on target, mind, so one might suggest Modric’s post-match boast that “we are as good as United” to be a tad premature. After all, the supposed best attacking side in England has failed to score against us in three hours of football this season, so I daresay the trophy will be free of white ‘n’ black ribbons for a while yet.

Incidentally, Vidic’s magnificence was well-timed after some low-level fan grumbling that he hasn’t been up to his best this season — but then, who has? Nani and Berbatov apart, it’s not been a vintage year for anyindividuals, has it? Still the CrapInvincibles march on, and we can surely say that we are at least past the 1972-ish danger point. Oldies will remind you that 1971/2 saw United top in December by five old-school points, yet managers such as Allison and Clough continued to insist that we were in a “false position” and would shortly be “found out”.

And so we were — though pleasingly, Man City were unable to capitalise when they signed Rodney Marsh and messed up a perfectly well-functioning unit.

I wish I could look upon thesigning of Dzeko and make the same prognosis but, judging fromWastelands reports, that’d be a futile hope, so well has he instantly gelled with Tevez. The Bosnian had earlier made a fool of himself by proclaiming at a press conference that all Mancs are Blues, a misjudgment that may become more apparent to him when he steps out into any city centre pub wearing his Mancini scarf. By the way, would it be tasteless to point out that he has a head-on clash with the Serb Vidic looming soon? Both players have talked darkly and angrily about their memories of being on theopposing sides of the Balkan wars, so it should be a derby with added spice.

Speaking of ancient incestuous blood feuds, I note that King Kenny has been busy, and in a manner that will pique Fergie. He had a visitor at their Melwood training ground last Tuesday — super agent Pini Zahavi, the man who was once so close to Fergie that they holidayed together and larked about in the OT dressing rooms with Pini’s Israeli commando mates. Then a bigger shark arrived in the pool in the shape of Roman, and Fergie was dropped faster than a WAG dumps a Championship meal ticket for a Premier League upgrade.

Not that Fergie would need any further reasons to do so, but how he must be pining for the arrival of this putative Qatari gold: he would be The Man once more, no question about that. Instead, he mustapparently spend the current New Year sales with his nose pressed against the shop window, watching the other spoiled children inside blowing their club-owners’ millions on overpriced tat like Darren Bent.

He then trails sadly home empty-handed, with only theremnants of the Christmas present oranges to look forward to, andmemories of Yuletides past when he was happily readying himself to lash out on yer Coles, Vidics and Evras. Hang tight, oh Tiny Tim of OT — there may yet be a ‘happy finish’ and I don’t just mean Ashley Young...