Captain, there be cider here!

I return from Manchester triumphant!

Not always the result that looked on the cards but for the second time in a row I return from this fixture having seen us come from behind in a less than convincing display to win 2-1. I’ve never seen us do anything but win against Arsenal, actually. I’m bad luck sometimes but when it comes to Arsenal, you want me to be there.

The match really isn’t that important, something much more important came to light on Saturday. The only bloody sell cider in Old Trafford now! GTFI. The team sheets rolling across the screen on the concourse couldn’t distract me from those beautiful bottles adorning the fridges. Yes, the fridges. THEY WERE COLD! No more warm, disgusting Bud in the ground.

So the game. Arsenal should’ve had a penalty, Foster’s really worrying at times, Rooney’s was a stonewall penalty, Eboue’s a funny character, Van Persie has enough talent to stop rolling around on the deck whenever he feels a breeze, Fletcher’s retained his great form for a third season, Ferguson’s a moron for playing one up top at home, Vermaelen is a very good player.

I should apologise to the three kids sat in front of me for swearing so much, though they did seem to find it funny at the time… that’s assuming they weren’t just amused by my drunken slur of a voice.

The burgers outside OT aren’t the best, are they? Oh well. Can't have everything.

No big transfers for us. Shame, means Anderson’s still at the club. *sad face*