Goodbye & Thanks For The Memories

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Goodbye Berba. Thanks for the memories. A classy guy to the finish. Most of all, thank you for your hatrick in the obliteration of Liverstool. A memory I'll always cherish and that outside-of-this-world bicycle kick. Yeah that one. Leave them dumbfounded for more than a while.

OK not feeling so sober-minded right now. Laters.

Acid Test.

Didn't feel like blogging. But I thought it proper to have a word or 2 before the game kicks off at 8.45 Malaysian time. So that I'd have the bragging right of telling you - 'I said so!'. That I-Said-So expression is, erm.

But what the hell do I say anyways ? I'm just anxious of what could be. And I'm afraid that my weekend will be ruined again (read: Molineux. last week. fuck).

I think if we win the scorers will be among Berbatov or Chicarito. Although that's more like wishful thinking if you were gonna start to analyst the probability using probablity calculator. And heck I don't even know what I've just said, just typing along and popping up whatever that comes to mind now.

Just the extend of how nervous and anxious I am about this Manchester derby.

The game is so important for us, not less to even City's title chase, top 4 chase whatever because how this game results will reflect on how we pick ourselevs from such demoralising defeat against Wolves in Sheepish clothes. And how we pick ourselves up against the backfrop of such defeat will distinguish Champions from losers. It starts off now. The making of Champions or breaking of losers.

I hope the lads are in the mood to crush those Stockport bitter twats and hand their asses to them on a platter.

So bring on Citeh!

'Cause We Are Manchester Fuckin' United.

Read bitches. Manchester United. 2-0 down. 3-2 win. Dimitar Berbatov. I couldn't stop loving this guy. Chicarito, what fuckin' else could I say that haven't been said yet about our Little Pea.

Maybe the run through of the match later. Just too overcome with emotions right now.

Manchester United. We never die.

Ahead of United Game Against Liverpool

Dimitar Berbatov's first hatrick for United. United player's first against Pool for 64 years. Not to mention the manner of which the goals were executed. Touches of class.

All The Reasons To Be Happy.

Currently backpacking Northward and United won one of the very few games I missed watching. Dimitar Berba on the score sheet again! Yay! :D

7-1

I'm not good at recording my feelings when I'm feeling good. But 7-1 scoreline just has to be mentioned and not to mention Berba at the heart of things again. 5 goals and was a tad unlucky to be denied a penalty, else he would have created history by being the only player to have scored 6 goals in a Premier League game.

And look he's smiling! lol

Still Basking In In The Glories.

It felt good. Feels like a mother bird who's finally sent off her nestlings to the vastness of air. It is still so. I have loved the Genius from the day he put on United shirt. Never have I doubted the air of nonchalant brilliance circling about the man. It was just a matter of time.

And now he's done it. Goals that helped United down their utmost hated rivals in our sacred ground. Not to fuckin' mention, a hatrick at that. Words failed me. Emotions have long overcame the gulf of my mind.

Thank you Berba. For long has Stretford End awaits for its King. Ever since 7he Emperor parted company with us. And you, thank you for showing us a glimpse of the majesties.

Us humans, we crave to be led. And I think we have found a Leader - In Berbatov we trust !

Berba-top !

berba: i told ya.

See ? I told you Berba is not a flop. Guy's a genius. And geniuses are characteristically lonely outcasts who the world would never figure. For what is genius if he does the exact amount of what the world think he should deliver.

I stood by him when the goings were harsh. And I'm glad I did. He was the first player to have scored a hatrick against Liverpool, our sworn enemies, in the space of 64 YEARS !

His bicycle kick was just outside of this world (I actually knock my Abg. Yong off his sleep for celebrating the goal - the extend of just how awesome the goal was!)

/me feeling superbatov!

There Goes My Fcukin' Week Again

4-5-1.

O'Shea.

Neville.

Evra's substitution.

Berba's lone role.

To lose is just plain painful. But to surrender a 2 fuckin goal lead is ANOTHER MATTER ALL TO FUCKIN GATHER.

P/S: I was there when we won rest assured that I shall be there when we lose. Hence its just so fucken sad.

3-0 :)

Berba's had a flying start of the season so far.

Misunderstood geniuses at work. Berba and Nani ran their magic wands and Rooney scored again. I can see all kinds of positives for future fixtures if, hopefully, Fergie were to maintain the lineup.

Last week's decision to bench Nani and played Park instead had me asking from the word go and we paid the price. 2 points snatched away right from under our noses. And there goes my week. The lost points bugged me for a week. It was a game that could have been and we wasted it in a very brutal fashion.

I Have A Dream
Current Listen: Common - I Have A Dream.mp3

I would really really really love to watch a United game within the Old Trafford sacred ground among the Reds faithfuls. And to see the likes of Berbatov doing his magics. Despite all the cynical mockeries that have come his way.

One writer even went as far as to put it:

"When it clicks, his languid style makes it look like he's pulling the strings effortlessly, but when it doesn't he looks more like an expensive mistake that doesn't care - a misfiring £30 million weapon."

..of which I find to be really agitating and uncalled for. Its really hard to swallow your team's loss - especially when you've won it 3 times in a row.

What's even worse is that you know, everybody does, that the team needs some tweakings here and there and all the CEO does is keep insisting that the manager has all the funds he needs to spend on whichever player that he likes. The Gaffer on the contrary, kept on insisting that he needs only one or two players to complement the whole salad dressing. That was the same exact, not to mention, worrying tone we heard on the start of the newly completed season. And here we are, knocked out of the Champions League - albeit with a little bit of unluckiness, and subsequently AND more importantly - The Premier League.

The players have indeed done us proud. With so many dismissing our ability to remain in the top tier of the competition - let alone retaining the League (due to the summer departures of 2 of our biggest names and the limited resources - plus the 'only natural' reluctance to spend) We send so many of the ready-made dumbfucks packing to the wrong end of shame. But then again you know that the team exudes of so many potentials - yet live up only to a countable few - due to off field matters that are way way beyond their hands.

Its maddeningly saddening.

Like how a genius kid who came from a poor family who have got all the futures ahead of him, who could at least, unlucky as he is, afford to get a decent job and support his family by completing his SPM - yet had to settle for jobs at the mere age of sixteen.

Comparing a football club's and the poor kid's fate might be a little off and selfish. But when you've been growing up watching the likes of King Cantona strutting his chest gracing the Stretford End. I bet you still wouldn't know how important United is to me.

Look, I've taken you for another ride - again. And the only one guilty is your choice to read on.

So yeah, like the kid, us United fans will have to keep our heads high and strut our chests come what may. Being poor, a lot like football club ownership policy is not an option. Its given. May be a gift even. There's practically everything we could do and yet nothing would ever budge. Hence what we do is we trust and we keep our faiths - then we fight on.

And trust me when I say there's nothing entertainment in everything United. Its personal.