Well hurrah, my team won; but these are my inner feelings:
A truly dreadful game and a most unsatisfactory way for United to win the Cup. Two poor refereeing decisions saw Palace go in at half time rightly aggrieved that they might have been 2-0 up.
Football is a very, very simple game about attackers hoodwinking defenders. It is not about laboriously square midfield buildups on a level with wallpaper repeats for interest. I cannot find a single reason why Carrick was allowed to take part in this Final…and if Wayne Rooney is a thoughtful midfield general, then I am a dayglo pink aubergine. The one time he broke free of his ‘role’ and bewildered the Palace defence, United equalised.
I despair for the once beautiful game: too much money swilling about, too many coaches removing all the spontaneity, and oceans of undiscerning “fans”.
Listening to the commentary was like the low points of watching Bloomberg TV. But I did laugh out loud at, “The shot had power but needed better direction”………….aka “he missed”.
If I had my way, they would all be forced to watch every move leading to a goal in which Lionel Messi and Johann Cruyff were involved. Now that was football.
And perhaps you spotted this, perhaps not: but what took Marcus Rashford off the field was a deliberate stamp on his knee long after the ball had gone: the ref missed it – as indeed he screwed up three advantage plays during the game.
The Slog 