TERRACE TALK: Reaction from the weekend’s top Premier League action

MANCHESTER UNITED: Farewell to late, great Red Issue

After more than 15 years writing this column, it becomes increasingly necessary to try to find original ways of grabbing your attention on a Monday morning.

So here’s another novel one: I’m not going to talk about yesterday’s game at all. (There’s an excellent match report elsewhere on this spread, of course).

This isn’t because I wish to avoid contemplating either the (very disappointing) result or the (very alarming) performance, but because I have to admit that all my attention yesterday was focused on two unfolding events off the pitch. If you will permit the rare self-indulgence, may I explain why emotions lay elsewhere? The first awe-inspiring and moving distraction, irresistible to anyone who publicly expresses opinions for a living, was the massive march in Paris, where the home of liberté lived up to its traditional values. Forgive the potentially solipsistic sentimentality but, as someone who is half-French and who has also worked for an oft-threatened cartoon-based satirical publication for more than 20 years, I found that the fate of Charlie Hebdo somewhat eclipsed concerns about the knee of Radamel Falcao over the past few days.

The grim irony is that the other event taking place at the same time as both the march and the match concerned that very publication for which I have written since 1992, namely ‘Red Issue’ fanzine.

For the first time in memory, its entire print run had sold out half an hour before kick-off, and for one simple reason: it was the last one that will ever be produced.

The editor has decided to close it, just short of its 26th birthday and 300th edition, despite it continuing to outsell all the other fanzines put together at the stadium.

Many amongst those of you who do go to Old Trafford will not need me to tell you how much Red Issue has been part of the old skool matchday experience, nor about how great a role it has played in United’s fan culture and politics.

The key passage in yesterday’s editorial explains its self-imposed demise: “With every aspect of the game now run by bullsh*tters, imposters and chancers, it serves no purpose Red Issue still raging against it all...Even by undermining and ridiculing it, there exists an implicit validation. There are those who’d argue ‘the same old gripes were always there, nothing much has changed.’ (But) I first went on the Stretford End unaccompanied at 11-years-old, which was a long way from being out of the ordinary. Kids today don’t — can’t — do that... We’ve been through all the arguments over and over again during the last 20-odd years, raging against the killing of a culture that’s long since deceased. The game we’ve been clinging onto is gone. Football now is happy clappy families, half-and-half scarves, tourists and selfie sticks; there’s no point trying to fight that. The Bullsh*t Industry’s become overbearing, and we can’t stand the stench any longer.”

Of course, there remain time-served, hardcore, home ‘n’ away Reds, who are still trying to cling onto the remains of ideals they grew up on. But the camera-toting, stats-quoting Nu-Football zealots are taking over everywhere, and Red Issue’s departure from the street unfortunately leaves another vacant patch onto which they may further spread and breed unchecked.

The fanzine has had enough now, but some of you lads reading this probably haven’t yet, so good luck to you in keeping the old Red flag flying when walking down the Warwick Road.

You’re going to need it.

Normal service will resume next week, when we may once again bitch together about the inadequacies of beshorted multimillionaires and self-basting Dutch ‘philosophers’. (Unless we’ve won, of course).

Football does still remain, after all, one of the best ways to find refuge from worldly horrors in luxurious trivialities.

ARSENAL: Win sets us up nicely for City

You had to feel some sympathy for the hardy travelling Potters fans. Not only did they suffer the ignominy of seeing their team positively toyed with, when the Gunners were three goals to the good, but they also had to endure insults added to this injury.

Taunts of “3-0 and you can’t get home” rang out after the stadium announcer revealed details of inevitable Sunday tribulations with the trains.

I’m sure it proved similarly soul-destroying for their team to be so comprehensively trounced by our starting XI, only to face the additional pace of Walcott and the grace of Özil for the last 20 minutes. With Ramsey also on the bench after recovering from his injury, Arsene faces an interesting team selection conundrum when we travel to Man City next weekend.

Coquelin might have only been a substitute for Charlton against Reading a few weeks back, but since being recalled from his loan spell with the Addicks out of necessity, his wholehearted efforts have forced him into the pivotal position as our solitary “stop at home” midfielder.

With Coquelin screening our previously suspect defence, with more energy than Arteta and with the sort of youthful vigour that perhaps leaves the ageing Flamini destined for the knacker’s yard, the Gunners are at long last showing glimpses of developing the sort of consistency that might enable us to kick on for the remainder of this campaign.

We might have been guilty of switching off in the latter stages of Sunday’s encounter and came close to carelessly throwing away a rare clean sheet, but this was the first time this season an Arsenal line-up vaguely resembled a balanced side. With his wealth of experience, Rosicky seems to offer the ideal counterweight alongside Coquelin.

While the Ox may have forgotten his shooting boots, both he and Cazorla were sufficiently influential that it would be hard to make a case for any tinkering with this team selection when we go up against City.

Judging by the way Walcott once again fluffed his lines in front of goal, he remains some weeks away from shaking off the ring rust of his long enforced absence. Nevertheless, with Sanchez in such scintillating form, turning provider for the one goal he didn’t score, one can’t help but salivate at the potential for even more thrilling poetry in motion, if Wenger is able to merge the promptings of Özil and Ramsey into this mix.

In fact it was fitting to have such luminaries as Henry and Pires gazing on from their lofty perch in Bobby’s corporate box, as there were hints of some of the glories of yesteryear about some of Sunday’s flowing football. Hopefully a taster of the shape of things to come.

That doesn’t mean the elephant of our defensive deficiencies has left the room, definitely not with more full-backs dropping like flies on Sunday. It was disappointing to see Debuchy stretchered off but I actually think we benefited from the introduction of Bellerin’s more adventurous tendencies.

Mercifully, a couple of stitches managed to staunch the flow of blood from Monreal’s introduction to Crouch’s elbows and Koscielny was able to run off the dead leg gifted to him by Shawcross.

Yet if Arsene suddenly finds himself with a surfeit of talent to choose from in the middle of the park, surely he can’t ignore our increasingly limited options at the back. Although I’d prefer a left-sided centre-half to a right-sided full-back, perhaps Debuchy’s shoulder injury will force Wenger’s hand. Some action in the transfer market will speak far louder than a frustrating month’s worth of conciliatory words.

LIVERPOOL: Markovic Day ends Gerrard Week on a winning note

It started off as Gerrard Week and ended up with Markovic Day. Life can be weird in these parts.

It all faintly resembled the death of a politician where one minute he’s an addled old bigot, the next he’s “a respectedelder statesman” before he’s even begun to push up the daisies.

When everyone knows something’s all over, people can be much kinder.

Those with better memories than amoebas recalled the reaction to the pummelling of Swansea without the captain and the dire mess against Leicester with him. All that was subsequently erased and outrage was the order of the day. He then scored another two goals which only poured gasoline on the flames. Folks, it was AFC Wimbledon. Now that Gerrard was leaving, 17 years of mostly brilliant football was pushing down hard on anyone daft enough to realise his latter years needed some kind of strategy. That meant the manager above everyone else.

As if he doesn’t have enough to deal with. Where Gerrard plays in the side has always been a matter of conjecture, even at his peak. There was a sliver of irony as the player who’d had all the attention had to limp off at half time anyway. It was a shame really, as what we’d seen in that first half was pretty damn good.

Let’s face it there was a fair amount of apprehension around beforehand.

Sunderland rarely concede many while Liverpool will always let in at least one.

The wind had picked up in no uncertain terms. The big invisible bully planned to push everyone around (“what are you going to do about it eh?” Eh?”).

When you’ve watched Simon Mignolet try to catch a cross in serene stillness it makes you wonder what bedlam he can conjure up in a Force 10. Then the team in yellow confounded every expectation by not only keeping the ball on the deck at all times but simply keeping the ball all the time. It got embarrassing one-sided, actually.

Then there was this Markovic chap who seemed to have an epiphany along the lines of “I’m a €20m footballer, maybe I’d better start acting like one” and absolutely shone all day.

Of course this being Liverpool 2015 it couldn’t be that simple.

The finishing was wasteful and by the time Sunderland did wake up they were down to 10 men. They were still pretty poor after that, despite Poyet’s charitable assessment.

Mignolet’s unique attempt to save a shot by falling backwards still couldn’t help his old side and the visitors played out time fairly comfortably in the end. Not by clinching it with another goal of course, that would be far too straightforward and sane. Coutinho might be another Messi if he could learn how to shoot. I’m not kidding, either. Talk of Lucas leaving seems premature as his game seems to get better and better. Of course Lovren looked hopeless and Balotelli was his usual hotchpotch self, but you can’t have everything.

Gratitude for the three points, 10 from the last 12, overwhelmed everything. The transfer window has so far seen the obligatory catalogue of linked names that unpack their bags elsewhere to puncture all hope and incite more panic. Shaqiri’s always looked like a chunky expendable to me but what do I know? We’ve averaged two points a game from the last nine. That sadly accentuates what a dreadful start we made. Any joy in the cups can paper over a few cracks but this was still a decent win without Sturridge, Sterling, Lallana and a half without Gerrard.

The infamous transfer committee might even be expecting a few plaudits because of recent performances by Markovic, Moreno, Sakho and the excellent Can. Write off one or two others as a nice try, correct those errors, scrape through 2014-15 best we can and gear up for next season.

That seems to be the idea. I’ve heard worse.

CHELSEA: Jose should stir Messi pot

That first half against Newcastle had me, and probably the rest of the Chelsea faithful, fearing the horror of New Year’s Day had shattered the confidence of the entire team.

We were completely over-run and when Cabella tore up our wing for a fifth time, I feared we might actually be on the end of another hiding. !

But then Oscar, who had been having another stinker, scored against the run of play just before half time. This was apparently followed by a blistering team talk (rant) from Jose and the confident, skilful team we remember took to the field for the second half.

It’s probably a good thing that Mourinho has chosen to put himself into purdah at the moment. Judging by his body language, the refereeing on Saturday had him seething once again and would probably have led to another candid post-match interview and yet another FA charge. But let’s not dwell on things that will never change.

I feel that in recent months we have not been attracting quite enough hate. Other clubs have dared to benefit from stupidly rich patrons and there have been other sideshows to threaten our prized position at the very bottom of the popularity list.

However, this week the moral indignation and sheer loathing at the possibility of Lionel Messi joining Chelsea has been nothing short of brilliant. If you just ignore, for a moment, that there is as much chance of Messi joining Chelsea as there is of Raheem Sterling getting punished for slapping a fellow professional, you can really appreciate the moral outrage of it all.

Messi is seen as the very personification of everything that is good and great in the game; the thought of him joining Chelsea — football’s “axis of evil” — is just too delicious for words. The press would NEVER forgive us. Never mind that other clubs collect Galacticos like Panini football stickers, it would be us ruining football once again.

I’ve never had a hankering for Messi — give me Ronaldo any day of the week — but am praying this stupid speculation continues for at least a couple more weeks.

When Jose’s bottom lip is back in place, he should come out and stir the pot and state that he would welcome Messi so he could rotate with Willian...

Speaking of sideshows, I see Frank Lampard and City have finally come up with an explanation (of sorts) for the sorry mess around his move there. If anything the explanations made the whole thing sound even more suspicious than before. Interestingly, rather than take the opportunity to investigate the affair, the FA gave City a chance to make some more cobblers up — sorry, clarify their statement — pointing out that six-month contracts do not exist in the Premier League.

Whatever the true reasons behind City’s actions and statements, a stain of suspicion has been left on both them and Frank Lampard. What it has also done is put the spotlight on the way that City are doing business and how perhaps they are getting around the FFP rules. To make it clear, nothing will ever detract from what Frank Lampard did for Chelsea.

And Chelsea fans, to a man, would have wished him luck. But the way this has been handled reeks of subterfuge and want to know why it was necessary to do things this way.

And despite the convoluted explanations and newspaper exclusives, nobody has yet quite explained that.