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The Fifteen Minute Show

The winter break is over, the season gathers momentum, the Champions League resumes and where better to resume it than in Lombardy, in the vertiginous pit of the San Siro under its dazzling crown of light. What greater challenge for United than a match against the perpetual exponents of functional progression, a fixture in which, from the dark, dark days of 1958 when emotion at the last proved insufficient and Ernie Taylor and company were crushed first with the physicality and then with the brilliance of Juan Schiaffino and his teammates by four goals to nil there has been nothing for the Rossoneri but joy, nothing for United but bitter disappointment.

There was 1969 when Karl-Heinz Schnellinger and his cynical team defeated Sir Matt Busby’s European Champions and John Fitzpatrick was sent off; there was the premature return of Ruud van Nistelrooy in 2005 when Hernán Crespo cashed in on Roy Carroll’s mistake for the only goal and then, of course, there was the shocking collapse of 2007 when Kaka and company inflicted by three goals the last away defeat suffered by United in Europe. Sorry performances, ten goals without reply.

It goes without saying that Ferguson picked his strongest starting eleven; Vidic had ruled himself out of the reckoning but the suspensions of neither Nani nor Rio Ferdinand applied, so Van der Sar played behind Rafael, Rio, Evans and Evra; Fletcher, Carrick and Scholes were in the midfield with Nani as an out and out winger, Park in the role of the injured Giggs and Rooney, of course up front. The build-up was all about David Beckham, playing out the evening of his career at this great club and selected in midfield ahead of Gennaro Gattuso, the midfield fighter who had been so instrumental in our destruction three years ago. Diplomatic as ever our erstwhile hero charmed his way through interviews describing his affection for United and his wish to win with his new team.

The experts sympathetic to British success were commenting upon recent form and suggesting with dangerous certainty that this might be a night of United triumph but what worse start could there have been than the one which transpired? Milan attacked from the off and showed an eloquent control and possession of the ball and less than three minutes had gone when Alexandre Pato elicited a free kick from the challenge with Evra. Up came Beckham and launched a decent ball forward which would have been dealt with by any half competent defence.

Nobody called to Evra who, back to the play, deserved telling that he had time. Instead he executed a blind scissors kick on the edge of his own area which ended disastrously. The ball came to earth with Ronaldinho, whose volley took a huge deflection off Michael Carrick and to the roar of this histrionic crowd in their historic stadium the home side was ahead; 3 minutes 0-1.

United were in shock and with Ronaldinho and Klaas Jan Huntelaar in particular looking like players worthy of the impressive heritage of their club our night was fast unravelling. Players of the class of Scholes and Carrick were giving the ball away, Evans looked as lost as an innocent at a consiglio of the Mafiosi, Rafael was straining manfully to keep touch with a brilliant Ronaldinho.

Luca Antonini shot wide, Ronaldinho was brilliantly tackled by Rio, Van der Sar had to be at his most decisive to punch away Beckham’s free kick. AC have not lost a lead in this competition since the 2005 final and never mind the pre-match promise of United glory, the question was whether we could survive. Milan oozed confidence; when Park brilliantly robbed Alessandro Nesta, Daniele Bonera’s equally stunning tackle robbed him cleanly; it was nineteen minutes before United had a meaningful shot (Rooney, of course). When we tried to counter, trademark sweeping moves ended with Nani’s profligacy until we got a stroke of luck as great as the one which had given Milan the lead.

The move was fine, 27 seconds, eleven touches ending with Park’s subtle ball out right to the lanky speed of Fletcher. His cut back was to the penalty spot and there Paul Scholes took and missed a right footed swing at it; the ball hit the shin of his standing leg and danced crazily into the corner of the goal, Dida groping in vain as its cruel trajectory eluded his fingertips; 36 minutes 1-1.

As yet, however, there was no transformation; Ferguson furiously berated Evans for his continuing hesitancy and naivety, Rooney upbraided Nani for his waste and when Ronaldinho turned brilliantly between Scholes and Carrick as if they were not there Van der Sar was mightily relieved to see his parry fall to friendly feet. At last the half time whistle blew and United could retire like an outwitted boxer to have his brow wiped and his wounds stitched in his corner.

After the interval there was temporary improvement; Fletcher close to a far post connection with Nani’s only good cross of the night, but soon Pato was allowed a free header as he drifted intelligently between Evra and Evans and it was a relief that he put it over the bar. We had been courting trouble all night by conceding free kicks in dangerous areas and from thirty five yards Andrea Pirlo went for goal, Van der Sar doing very well to keep it out of the top corner.

The story of the night, however, was not the competently anonymous David Beckham but Wayne Rooney, booked for dissent and drifting dangerously close to frustrated adolescence. As the Milan pressure continued it was he whose drive and energy relieved it, though he put a shot wide when he had a man over.

The match changed when Ferguson had had enough of Nani and replaced him with Valencia. With his first touches the Ecuadorean took Scholes’ ball on the right wing, beat his man and curled in a deadly cross; Wayne Rooney, eyes on the ball, retreating to its flight, rose high in the air and nodded it back into the top corner, a centre forward’s goal; 66 minutes 2-1.

The home crowd was silenced, the United chants clear in the cold night, as Rooney took the stage. He sped past Bonera and won what had seemed an unretrievable ball. He shot Rafael’s ball just wide and then he headed down Park’s free kick for Fletcher and turned and drifted into the gap for Fletcher’s perfectly chipped return. His header was clean and powerful; 74 minutes 3-1.

A Rooney free kick was inches wide and it looked as if United were about to coast to a decisive victory but as suddenly as United’s form had turned on, so it turned off. Milano had brought on Filippo Inzaghi and Clarence Seedorf for Huntelaar and Beckham and Ronaldinho had an outlet for his trickery. Rafael ventured forward and lost the ball, Tiago Silva found Ronaldinho and his lovely run into the area enabled a simple pass which Seedorf turned cleverly into the net, 85 minutes 3-2.

Those home fans too wise to have left got behind their team and once again it was United holding on, Ronaldinho brilliantly supplied Inzaghi who shot over, then Tiago Silva’s cross found Ronaldinho and his disguised header would have been turned in by Massimo Ambrosini had it not been for Rio. Wes Brown was brought on for Rafael and as if Seedorf’s goal had not been enough to take the gloss off a wonderful win, referee Olegário Benquerença sent off Michael Carrick in the 92nd minute for the faintest of backheels, kicking the ball away. The referee’s seemed an officious and rather pathetic act but should not detract from the spectacle of a breathtaking match played in the cauldron at the centre of the European game in which, for fifteen minutes or so, United had looked as brilliant and devastating as any club team in the world.

Paul James