Barcelona 2 Brondby 0 Bayern Munich 2 Man Utd 2 P W D L F A Pts GROUP D 2 1 1 0 5 3 4 Barcelona 2 1 0 1 2 3 3 Brondby 2 0 2 0 5 5 2 ManUnited 2 0 1 1 3 4 1 Bayern Munich ****************** Thomas Strunz brings down United's Jesper Blomqvist ****************** Bayern Munich (1) 2 v Manchester United (1) 2 FT Elber 11,90 Yorke 30 Scholes 49 Bayern and United draw 2-2 in emotional encounter MUNICH, Sept 30 - A late goal by Brazilian striker Giovane Elber allowed Bayern Munich to snatch a 2-2 draw at home to Manchester United in their Champions' League group D match on Wednesday. A minute's silence was observed before kickoff in tribute to the eight United players and 15 others who died in 1958 in Munich when the plane carrying the team home from a European quarter-final against Red Star Belgrade crashed on take-off after refuelling. United were heading for a win when Elber, who had already scored his side's opening goal, struck from close range in the dying seconds. Elber put Bayern in front in the 11th minute, beating United 'keeper Peter Schmeichel after a clever combination between Croatian midfielder Hasan Salihamidzic and striker Carsten Jancker. The vistors levelled on the half hour when David Beckham exploited a blunder by Lothar Matthaeus and hit a cross for Dwight Yorke to head home. Another mistake by a shaky Matthaeus allowed Yorke to feed Paul Scholes who gave United a 2-1 lead from inside the penalty area in the 49th minute. United and Bayern, two of Europe's top clubs, have jointly played over 450 matches in continental club competitions but had never met each other until Wednesday. ****************** Munich Madness (Tv report) by RED KELLY Sitting down with my kids to watch the game last night I hadn't realised that United hadn't played in the Bavarian beer capital since that fateful day in 1958. My phone had rung fifteen minutes before kick-off and the conversation drew to a close just in time for me to observe the minute's silence when the return to the scene of tragedy was truly brought home to me. The first half progressed well until the linesman's contact lenses blurred. He'd probably been partaking of some gaseous Bavarian lager and let off a Dobson which had rippled through his shorts and belched out of the top of his shirt at the very moment the ball was played through the United rear guard. It was a blatantly offside goal. They were actually offside twice. I know the linesman was over the other side of the pitch, but isn't that what they're used to anyway. To miss one decision is forgivable - they're only human, but to miss two must cast doubt on his origins. I was still confident in the end result though as the whites were playing with an authority usually reserved for speed cops on Englands B roads. I have learned all the signs over the years watching footy on the box with my children - it's no wonder they encourage me to go to the actual games! I have come to know that if they are sitting happily next to me then all is well, if they are at the other end of the settee then I'm obviously tense. For the entire first half they sat next to me apart from when the move which led to the goal started and I was out of my seat begging for the right cross. When it came and Yorkie headed home they joined me in a triumvirate celebration. And after Yorke took the remainder of the Bayern goalmouth out of his own he revelled in congratulatory hugs. Half time came with a chance to pull a can from the fridge in readiness for the second assault on the German goal. Then the bloody phone rang again but something told me who it would be this time. It was with a certain amount of apprehension that I picked up the receiver. I was half expecting incomprehensible drivel but was shocked to hear a surprisingly sober BDS. He was recovering from the night before and was I glad he hadn't decided to phone me then after downing copious glasses of 8.3 strength! I could hear the pandemonium from the crowd inside the stadium down the phoneline. I wished I was there but by then it was a touch too late to even consider a dash for the local airport. The verdict on the first half was good.- United in command and as long as the Germans didn't pull a tactical masterstroke and Fergie hadn't turned into that nausiatingly frumpy fairy Tinkerbell again, we should be on for more thrills. Sure enough we were. After only a few short minutes that battering ram of a centre forward Paul Scholes sent shivers down the lily-livered German goalkeeper's spine as he fumbled the ball in the area. Scholesy scampered right through him and the ball was in the net. The roar from our living room was loud enough to bring neighbours running from two streets away to see what was up. The scenes of celebration were wilder than for the first equalising goal. We were in the lead at last and deservedly so. All we had to do now was hang on for the next 85 minutes and we'd be 3 points better off. As the half wore on I became more and more tense. My 8 year old daughter had long gone to bed having expressed disgust at Becks' booking and my 12 year old son was sitting as far away from me as possible. By the last five minutes of the game we were divided by a gap which left no doubt as to the tension on displayed. Karen said afterwards that she could hear the shouting and balling from the top of the house as clear as if she was in the same room and had obviously decided to steer clear til well after the game had finished. Then the ball was belted out for a throw in and our daft Danish custodian decided to do a spot of stage diving and we all know the rest. Even he can't know why he did that and he must be thanking the lord that he's such a big bastard because if he wasn't he'd be nursing more than a couple of shiners this morning and that would be just from Fergie's breath. Talk about paint stripper, he'd definitely have white hair by now anyway. The cursing continued for some time after the game had finished until Karen eventually appeared half an hour later. It was devastating watching it on TV, it must have been worse live. The news this morning brought everything back into perspective though when we heard that the plane due to carry the United party home had developed engine problems. Thankfully they decided to call it a night and have a couple of Bavarian brews. Pity they hadn't done that 40 years ago. Copyright RED KELLY 1998 J STAND RED ************************ RED KELLY - J STAND RED Copyright RED KELLY 1998 Munich Diary (Part 1) DAY ONE ======= 8:00am: At last,a lie-in before a European away !! Unlike my very early morning starts for the (pre-season friendly) Brondby and LKS Lodz games,the flight to Munich didn't leave until 10:15,so I had the luxury of a decent night's sleep beforehand,which in hindsight was VERY welcome seeing as sleep in the next 6 days was virtually non-existent.I was really looking forward to this trip as I had a feeling that it was going to be one of the best Euro aways;it did not disappoint. For as long as I can remember,I have always wanted to see United play Bayern Munich,and to go to the Oktoberfest Beer Festival.Above all, however,I have wanted to pay my respects to those who tragically died on 6 February 1958.I wasn't born until 6 years after that fateful day,but ever since my dad showed me the Manchester papers that he has kept in pristine condition from the days following the crash,I have had a very strong emotional bond to the Busby Babes. I wish I could say that the flight was uneventful,but it wasn't.We hit a very bad patch of turbulence just at the time that drinks were being served.Needless to say,they ended up all over the place,but the worst bit was when we actually came out of the turbulence.For a second or two,the plane just "dropped" and I don't mind admitting that I nearly needed a change of underwear.I think that my exact words were "Oh (expletive deleted) !!".I was not the only person use such a choice of words. Thankfully,I arrived safely at Munich Airport at 1pm,met up with Mick and Paul who had arrived a couple of hours earlier from Heathrow,and headed off into the city on the train (about 40 minutes away). Upon arriving in the city centre,we headed to the bar where we were to meet Kerry (Schiller's Cafe),which very conveniently was 50 metres from our hotel and became our place of residence for the best part of 3 days. Several beers later,we headed off to the beer festival site.This was colossal,half taken up with 14 huge beer tents and half with one of the biggest fairgrounds in Europe.It was heaving with people,and it was only 6pm !! We ended up in the Hofbrauhaus (HB) tent,with some 10,000 other piss-heads who were out for a good time.We had arranged to meet Kerry's advance party of reds down there,but upon entering they were not where they said they would be and besides,the tent was packed to the rafters.I don't know whether it is a skill that close-knit reds have,or whether we are just plain lucky bastards at times,but despite the odds of finding 6 people amongst 10,000 being very much stacked against us,Paul,Mick and I found Kerry & co within 5 minutes ! Big pitchers of lager were ordered at frequent intervals (never taking more than a couple of minutes to arrive from the excellent roaming waitresses that they had) and we were off.The tent itself had a big stage in the middle with a German oom-pah band playing on it getting everybody going.The place was absolutely buzzing,people were dancing and singing on the tables,everyone was pissed.....and it was only 7pm !! Mick had us and everyone around us in stitches when he pulled down the dancing-on-the-table Kevin's shorts,who then proceeded to swing his tackle all over the place and had hundreds of people pissing themselves with laughter.Unfortunately the SPS-type security,hunting in packs (sound familiar ?),didn't see the funny side of it,quickly grabbed him off the table and dragged him outside.Despite ordering him not to come back in,Kev just left it 10 minutes,walked back round to the front and came straight back in to a great reception from us all ! About this time I had to go and meet a mate who had coached it all of the way (24 hours !!) at the bus terminal.When I got there it was huge and chaotic,with buses all over the place.He was meant to arrive at 7:45,but by 8:15 there was no sign of him and I was about to give up.I then found out that there had been a big accident on the main road from Stuttgart and that dozens of buses had been held up.Finally,at 9pm,a convoy of about 40 buses all turned up at once and I was running round like a lunatic (with MANY pints of lager and no food swilling around me !) trying to catch a sight of Gordon getting off one of these buses.Amazingly,we saw each other much to our respective relief's. After that near-disaster,there was only one thing to do and that was to head back to the HB tent in double quick time !! Whilst making our way back to Mick,Paul,Kerry & co,I noticed that there were quite a lot of reds in the tent and that they were gathering in the middle,by the band. Mick disappeared at about 10:30 ish (he says that he went back to the hotel,but personally I think that he was wanting to try on some German's Lederhosen and feathered cap!) and we got separated from Kerry & Co,so we joined up with the ever-growing number of reds around the band stand and got some serious United songs going.This epitomised what following United abroad is all about.Lots of drink,lots of fun and mixing with the locals with no trouble (unlike Ing-er-land arseholes).Last (double) order top-ups were made at 10:30 and we left at about 11:15 to head back into town. (As a footnote to the above paragraph and in particular to the reference about no trouble,I found out the next day that fighting broke out between some reds and the security about 5 minutes after we left.I don't know the catalyst for this but I did hear that one security person tried to charge a group of reds with a table/bench and got his come-uppence.In th end,nine were arrested.What I will say is that up until we left, there was NO hint of ANY trouble whatsoever and everybody was having a great time (including the locals and tourists). On heading back into town,there then followed a search for a club.After being sent on a subway journey to the suburbs by some local to "the place to be" and lasting all of 30 seconds their as it was empty,we headed back to the city centre.My memory goes a bit sketchy here but we found one bar (which I didn't recognise....more later) that stopped serving as soon as we got their (1am),walked about 20 metres down the road and found a downstairs bar that was open until the last person dropped.At about this time,Paul went back to the hotel and just Gordon and I were left.We carried on until 3:30am,and then headed off in search of the hotel. Now at this time,I didn't have a clue where we were,other than we were fairly near to the railway station.I remembered that my hotel was near to this,but I got it fixed into my head that it was on the other side,so under the station we went,only to get completely lost down some back streets.I could walk no further,so we hailed a taxi.I spluttered the name of the hotel to the driver and 5 minutes later we were there. Next problem - how to get (jibbing) Gordon into our room.There was only one way into the hotel and that was to ring the bell for the night porter.As Mick had the room key and had returned a few hours earlier,and as Paul was also jibbing it in our room,I had to get us both in without the porter knowing what was going on.The plan was for me to cause a distraction by asking the porter for a spare room key,so that Gordon could get to the stairs unchallenged.The porter tried to call Gordon back but he was up the stairs before he had even finished his sentence.I got some strange looks and a couple of questions as the porter ticked off his list and noticed that there were now 3 ticks alongside Mick and my room.I thought that giving him a nice faceful of alcohol breath would do the trick,which it did,and no more questions followed.He got the master key and we took the lift to the room.Unfortunately,this is where it all backfired as the moment we got to the room door,Gordon appeared at the top of the stairs right by it.The porter (by now,nicknamed "Little Adolf") sussed out what was going on and ordered Gordon out of the hotel. So the end of Day 1 had arrived.I crashed out in a much-needed bed,whilst Gordon was thrown out onto the street at 4:30am.Not exactly what was planned,but we couldn't do anything about it. -- J STAND RED Munich Diary (Part 2) DAY TWO ======= 10am: Even though I was last to bed,I was the first to surface;Paul and Mick still being in their dream worlds.Having shared a room with Mick in Copenhagen (and having been subjected to methane poisoning of the worst kind imaginable),one thing I did notice on awakening was that the aroma of the room was actually OK.(A tip to anybody sharing with him in the future - Alan and Paul S in Barcelona..haha - keep him off the Guinness and you're safe.Pity that there are a few Irish Bars their though !!). I thought it a shame not to give some sort of "pay-back" to Mick,so I dropped one in the bathroom that the sausage man himself would have been proud of and then had a life-saving shower (Alan,you weren't there in person,but you were definately there in smell - this one was at least as good as the one you dropped at Boarding Gate 41 !!).Somehow the shower drainage became blocked (purely coincidental I'm sure) and the bathroom flooded.What had originally been left as a gift to Mick,then became an inhaling nightmare for the plumber who had to spend an hour taking the pipes apart to clear the blockage !! Poor bastard ! Shower overwith,and having stepped over Paul who had adopted the sleeping foetus position by the window,I then pulled the curtains back to look at what it was like outside.All of a sudden,I had this terrible feeling of deja-vu as I looked across the road and saw the pub that I had spent the last 2 hours of the previous night drinking in a mere 50 metres up the road.To think that I had walked what seemed like miles to try and find the hotel after leaving the pub the night before,only to find that it was a 30 second walk away,did not go down particularly well !! I then remembered about Gordon and had visions of the poor sod sleeping rough in some nearby alleyway (just what he needed after 24 hours on a coach and several hours serious drinking ).I wondered around outside for a while,but couldn't find him.I then remembered that we had arranged to meet Andy,Sean and Tim who were flying in from Manchester that lunchtime in a bar called Mulligans,the only problem being that Gordon had the address and I didn't have a clue where it was ! After asking loads of people without success,I finally found a taxi driver who knew where it was and he was decent enough to point me in the direction of the subway as it was 4 stops away.Actually,I think that he was more concerned about me dumping some contents on his back seat than the lost fare (I didn't look particularly well).I asked him whether he was going to the match and he said "No,I hate those Bavarian bastards !! Seems like Bayern are liked as much as we are then ! I finally got to Mulligan's at the arranged time,only to find no Sean,no Tim,no Andy and no Gordon !! I hung around for an hour and tried calling Sean on his mobile several times,but there was no sign of anyone. Thankfully,I then got a call from Sean to say that their flight had just arrived after a 2 hour delay and that they were heading into the city centre,so I set off to meet them.There was still no sign of Gordon though.It's at times like this that the mind starts to play tricks and I had now reached the stage where I thought that he'd either been mugged or else had been arrested for sleeping rough !! On getting back into the city centre and heading towards the place where we had arranged to meet,I turned a corner and saw 100 red United shirts walking towards me."The club trip's arrived then" I chuckled to myself !! It's funny really,but there are definately two very distinct groups of supporters that follow United;those who wear every team- identifying thing that they possibly can (the Plc's dream),and those who wear....a pin badge at most (if that).Of the several hundred independent travellers who were out in town on the Tuesday night,I saw one wearing a United top (and he is a well-known long-standing red).Of the couple of thousand club-trippers who arrived on the day of the match,almost all were wearing club apparel.Please don't think that I am having a go at them here;it's just an observation as everybody is entitled to show their support in whatever way they want. After finally finding Sean,Tim and Andy,we jumped on the (free) U-Bahn and headed back to Mulligan's to see whether Gordon had turned up (it was now nearly 3 hours after the arranged meeting time).Much to our's and his delight,there he was,sitting at the bar,beer in hand !! For the second day running,we greeted each other as if we were long-lost brothers ! It turns out that after he was kicked out of my hotel,he wandered back up to the station intending to crash out there,only to bump into 2 lads that we both know and always seem to find in obscure streets in Europe but never at home.They were on their way back to their hotel (at 5am !!) and he was able to crash out with them. Muchos drinking and a good sing-a-long to a Bob Dylan CD (very worrying) that DJ Sean had found behind the bar (he's 6' 6'' and ex-armed forces, so they couldn't really argue with him when he climbed over) later,we left Mulligan's with them considerably richer and us feeling not-so-well (not bad for 4 hours drinking) and headed off towards the stadium in good voice on the (free) U-Bahn again. Naturally,the train was full of Bayern fans,together with a sprinkling of reds looking in much the same condition as we were.Everybody was in good spirits though and there was no bother. Now I touched upon this when I wrote a few words after arriving back from Munich,but some of their supporters had to be seen to be believed.Quite simply,they looked like a complete bunch of dicks,even worse than the barcode Geordies,if that is possible.I thought for a few moments that I'd been put in Doctor Who's Tardis and transported back to a Slade or Bay City Rollers concert in the mid-70's,seeing as there were a large number of clowns of various ages walking around in sleeveless denim jackets covered in sew-on patches,headbands and,I kid you not,up to 10 scarves hanging off *each* of their arms,not to mention waist and any other part of their body that they could tie them to !!! Oh,and the 1970's haircut was much in existence as well.Martin Edwards must have been wanking off at the average merchandise takings per fan !! All that was missing was a few dressed up in butcher's coats (remember them ?) I can just imagine what it would have been like had it kicked off.Scarves rotating like helicopter blades and thousands of germans being propelled into the air,whilst the reds on the ground are rolling around the floor in hysterics.It's probably just as well that it didn't kick off,as there no were police to be seen anywhere near the station or around the outer perimeter of the ground. The stadium itself was the centrepiece of the Munich Olympics (1972 I think ?).With the refit that it had for the European Championships in 1994,it looked impressive from the outside at least,and there were plenty of much-needed food (and beer) stands on the perimeter. Despite looking for it,we couldn't find our turnstile,so we just followed everybody else in.Thinking about it,I'm not sure whether we even had our own turnstile,which kind of makes a mockery of the safety regulations that you expect at European games.At least there was a police presence at the turnstile and I managed to secure a body search from a particularly nice German policewoman. When we did get in,we realised that we were at the wrong end of the ground,so we just walked around the inner perimeter until we came to our section.Very strange.Quite how the Munich police control crowds when fighting breaks out,I have no idea,because anyone can go anywhere. We had a reasonable turnout - perhaps 3500 -but I was expecting a lot more seeing as the beer festival was on and because of the historical significance of Munich.Perhaps we've got more post-93 supporters who have no idea about the history of our club than I feared ? I thought that it was an excellent gesture for a minute's silence to be held before the game started.All of the Germans to a man stood in silence (we were all standing of course),and it was very much appreciated by all of the reds. The game itself was largely enjoyable,we did enough (and deserved) to win,and the support level was excellent,even though I have since watched a little bit on video and noticed that the atmosphere did not come across at all well.However,the enjoyment of the night was ruined by the mad Danes suicide mission in the last minute.I can't bring myself around to actually watch that part of the video,but it looked bad enough from our (the opposite) end of the ground.Everybody was on such a high until then,we were in the middle of an excellent rendition of the Red Flag and everyone who was staying over that night was looking forward to a superb night out on the town,and then disaster struck.When the final whistle went,it felt as if we'd lost.We bid farewell to Andy who was flying straight back and trundled on back to the city centre feeling very down. As if everything was conspiring against us,we tried to get entry into a few pubs in the Marienplatz area of town,but they were all in the process of shutting,so we headed back to the Schillers Cafe which, incidentally,had some amazing boxing memorabilia in it.The owner,a very good Les Dawson lookalike (and also very mean looking) was an ex-boxing champion,and had all sorts of stuff on the walls,including championship belts and a lot of Ali stuff. A couple of hundred other solemn-looking reds (including the found-again Mick and Paul) were already there and it took a couple of hours before people started to liven up once the alcohol had had the desired effect.By 1am,most people had put the football to one side and we even had a mass rendition of American Pie and a Stone Roses song,much to the amusement of the 5 full riot squad vans parked up outside the bar.I am sure that they expected it to kick off,but we are United (not Ing-er- land) and we know how to behave ourselves. Kevin (of Full Monty infamy in the Hofbrauhaus Beer Tent the night before),once again became the star of the evening by recounting a story of somebody that he had seen throw up earlier,only to then run to the nearest alleyway (the entrance to the strip club next door !) and throw up himself !! Before I forget,I ought also to mention one of the funniest moments of the trip.At the other end of the ground to where we were stood,there was a large union jack flag with "Manchester City..German Blues" on it.At half time,there was a race between a group of reds to see who could get the flag first.One red did and ripped it down.By the time that he made it back to the Schillers Cafe after the match,all that remained on the flag was "Manchester" !! I should also mention a story of an event that I (thankfully) didn't witness,but have heard and read enough about since not to doubt its authenticity.As children might be reading,I'll keep it toned down. Anyway,a certain well-known red had his sexual frustration "relieved" for him by another well-known and not-so-young red of the opposite gender,all of this happening on the terrace in view of hundreds of reds, culminating in the said pair disappearing for a "Monica" behind a burger bar after Scholsie had scored !! Paul went back to the hotel at about 2am and Mick at about 3am.The police vans left at 4am to loud cheers from the hundred or so remaining reds.Sean and Tim carried on 'til 5am and then headed off to the airport to catch their 7am flight.Gordon and I carried on until the bar closed at just before 6am.I couldn't get back into the hotel until Little Adolf ended his shift at about 7am (I hope that you're reading this Mr Scully -the cheeky bastard was even sleeping in my bed when I finally got back to the room !!),so I went off to get some breakfast instead,finally getting back to my room at 7:30am. Part three to follow (the last part,I promise !!) J STAND RED Munich Diary (The Final Frontier) DAY THREE ========= 10:30am: What a pair of wimps I have travelled with.Once again,I was the last in and the first up,this time having only had 3 hours sleep.These youngsters have got no stamina !! It was check out time and after we all left it seemed only logical to wander up the road to our spiritual home for the past 3 days,the Schiller Cafe,only this time alcohol was definately not on the agenda;food and water definately were though.Not suprisingly,the usual Motley Crue were already there,most with beers in their hands. We had talked about it ever since we'd arrived,but we were definately going to go up to the old Riem Airport today in order to pay our respects.Mustering up the energy to actually leave proved a little harder,as everyone was still slammed from the night before ! Eventually, however,about 8 of us (including myself,Mick,Paul and bagman Kerry - the only person I know who needs 2 bags of luggage for a 3 day slumming it piss up trip !!) left for the 20 minute or so subway journey to the nearest station to the old runway.With our trusted guide Tony,the London Association membership secretary,in charge of the map,a 10 minute walk at the other end brought us to a well-maintained small cross memorial on the corner of two country lanes in the village of Kirchtrudering. We all stood there in perfect silence.One United scarf adorned the cross,with what looked like a single red rose tucked in just behind the body.A small brass plaque,in German,at the foot of the cross was the only thing that identified why the memorial was there.Judging by the well- maintained flower bed around the cross,it was obvious that the memorial means as much to the local community as it does to United supporters,and that only added to the poignancy of the moment. Mick placed another scarf at the foot of the cross and we all took our respective and respectful photographs.After spending another couple of minutes in complete silence and with our own private thoughts,we wondered up to the large open field at the top of the lane.I guess this is where the runway was,though you couldn't tell exactly where because the old airport is no longer there.In a way,however,I was pleased that this was the case,as it would probably have been too much to know the exact spot. I haven't had chance to get my pictures developed yet,but as soon as I do,I'll get some copied and sent to Barry so that he can put them onto his website for you all to share. We then headed back towards the city centre.Some went straight to the airport for the return journey,others who were staying on for another day went back to Schiller's Cafe.I initially went back to the city centre to get a couple of things from the Bayern Munich souvenir shop and then went on to the airport,only to find on arrival that my Debonair flight back to Luton had been delayed for 90 minutes.Still,it could have been worse,as the other Debonair flight was delayed for 4 hours ! I finally arrived back home at midnight,and crawled into bed at 1am with the prospect of having to get up again at 4am so as to catch a flight to Amsterdam for a stag weekend (tough life,tough week ?..yeah right !). Days 4,5 and 6 of this week I will not tell you about,except to say to Alan that "Czech Pickup" is still there and so are a few of her mates !! All in all,I would rate this as one of the best European aways that I have had the fortune to go on.It would have been nice to have picked up all 3 points,but that wasn't to be.My lasting memory of the trip ? Well,its obvious isn't it. J STAND RED Copyright 1998. Nothing is to be reprinted without the express permission of the author. ******************* Scholes sparkles but United let it slip in last minute Thursday, October 1, 1998 Before the match manager Alex Ferguson had said his side might suffer for their inexperience but for the Germans to score so early and in the manner they did was bitterly disappointing. Stefan Effenberg was in splendid isolation just inside United's half when he splayed a raking 40-yard pass which skittled past numerous legs before landing right at Elber's feet. The Brazilian was still reassuringly wide of the box but transferred the ball instinctively to the man mountain known as Carsten Jancker. With that body, which was made for Gridiron rather than Champions League, the Luton Town reject held off Jaap Stam and played a one-two with Hasan Salihamidzic. By the time Jancker nudged a pass into the path of the sprinting Elber, the Brazilian was offside but referee Marc Batta, and his linesman, missed the call. With one sweeping application of Elber's right foot the ball was curled past Peter Schmeichel who had only been able to watch the instant mayhem in the territory surrounding him. Space had opened up for Effenberg and the punishment had been of the blitzkrieg variety. Ferguson had pinpointed the imposing blond as the guy who had more fun for Bayern than anyone else. Effenberg seems to conduct his life as if he has an unshakeable thirst for bad publicity but, unlike Paul Gascoigne for example, he has conserved his talent. In the minutes which followed the goal United continued to play with comfort but Effenberg, when the mood took him, caused problems. One superb cross to the back post found Salihamidzic free from Phil Neville's attentions but he failed to score while, bored with the long ball, Effenberg followed that up with an audacious nutmeg of Jesper Blomqvist in midfield. Teddy Sheringham, picked to counteract some of Munich's aerial ability and to hold the ball up, glanced a header inches past after Stam had knocked Beckham's corner across goal. Scholes was playing deeper than is his forte but he did much tactical covering, Sheringham easily justified his inclusion in the first half and, most noticeably, Blomqvist rose to the occasion. More than once he drove down the left where the presence of Giggs was missed much less than might have been anticipated. With each teasing run United won not only yards but confidence. What began to be apparent was that Lothar Matthaus, footballing maestro although he remains, was not having a comfortable night. When Sheringham hoofed a massive penalty box clearance it was Matthaus' mistake which allowed Yorke to gather and then feed Blomqvist. The Swede hoisted in a nasty cross which was rewarded with a corner, but Matthaus was clearly rattled. >From the corner only a superb save from Oliver Kahn stopped Sheringham's vicious shot and moments later Beckham curled another of his free kicks narrowly wide. The tide was turning and Matthaus was booked, eliminating him from Bayern's next match against Barcelona, before he gave the equaliser away. The 37-year-old gave possession straight to Beckham in the 29th minute. Beckham combined with Sheringham before beating Kahn and Linke with a cross which Yorke headed in. Beckham was not long in following Matthaus into the book and he, too, misses the next match, in Copenhagen, which will be a big loss on his current form. Schmeichel emulated Kahn's earlier brilliance with an instinctive stop when Effenberg sent Elber away and Salihamidzic volleyed a shot which looked as if it must score. Instead, United did, only three minutes after the break, with that quite remarkable solo goal which left Ferguson's team with only their manager to impress. All they had to do was counteract his accusation of immaturity by defending better than they had done when leading at home against Barcelona. ---- Bayern Munich: Khan, Matthaus, Babbel, Linke, Strunz, Jeremies, Effenberg, Jancker, Lizarazu, Salihamidzic, Elber. Subs: Scheuer, Kuffour, Fink, Tarnat, Daei, Goktan. Man Utd: Schmeichel, Irwin, P. Neville, G. Neville, Stam, Keane, Scholes, Beckham, Blomqvist, Sheringham, Yorke. Subs: Van Der Gouw, Berg, May, Brown, Cruyff, Solskjaer, Cole. Referee: M Batta (France) *************************