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Those who can recall life before the Premiership might also remember that
Rangers fell out of favour with us in 1974 when, in Manchester to watch a
friendly match, their fans expilated the centre of town. Considering the
reputation and history of the respective clubs, however, Manchester United and
Rangers were avoiding one another long before that. Of ninety United matches
against Scottish clubs since the visit of Third Lanark to North Road in 1888,
only nine have been against Rangers (compared, for example, to twenty seven
against Celtic). We beat them 2-1 at Hampden Park in the 1953 Coronation Cup
but our first visit to Ibrox was not until well into Alex Ferguson’s time.

Each of our visits has produced but a single goal. We won the pre-season
friendly of August 1990 through a late goal from Russell Beardsmore after Chris
Woods had saved a Steve Bruce penalty. We lost the International Challenge
Trophy play-off in August 1994 thanks to a David May own goal just before half
time; Eric Cantona was sent off that day for casting a snook at the Auld
Alliance. Phil Neville scored a fine goal in the fifth minute of our only
previous Champions League encounter at their ground in October 2003 when the
referee refused a clear penalty for Paul Scholes.

Ferguson had chosen to play a reserve back four; John O’Shea at right back,
Chris Smalling and Jonny Evans in the middle and Fábio da Silva at left back.
We went for experience in midfield, with Michael Carrick and Paul Scholes in the
centre and Nani and Ryan Giggs on the flanks and at the front it was back to
last season with Dimitar Berbatov partnering Wayne Rooney, starting for the
first time since the day when, the ears being deafened, the eyes blind, he
turned away from us.

Given that Rangers had to win to stay in the competition Walter Smith’s policy
of blanket defence was recondite. Only one of its premises made sense; that if
United could not score against Rangers at Old Trafford we were unlikely so to do
at a hostile Ibrox. The notion that a Rangers goal might eventually occur,
given the amount of attacking they did, was testing the monkeys and typewriters
theory beyond its limit.

In the second minute Steven Davis sent Berbatov flying in the area with no
regard for the ball right in front of the eyes of the fifth official; there was
no penalty given. Whether or not because of his leniency at this moment,
Massimo Busacca let go some tough tackling, including another penalty refusal
when Nani was knocked to the ground. The cut mouth was real but Nani’s
reputation as a bit of a princess means he gets little from referees now.

United looked much livelier than of late, though Giggs and Rooney both seemed to
take a while to acclimatise themselves to match pace, and although Rangers
shared possession equally for nearly a half of the match, their conservative
approach meant that the majority of it was played in their half of the field,
whoever had the ball. The penalty incidents gave them heart and led by the
example of their captain David Weir they packed their area, tackled robustly on
its fringes and cleared a series of crosses which rained in from the excellent
Fábio on the left, and from Nani, mostly, on the right. Vladimir Weiss was the
only Rangers man who showed the consistent will to attack and the skill to
implement his intentions. He is on loan from City; they could have done with
him the other week.

Tickets for United visits to Glasgow are as gold dust and my application fell on
stony ground so I was snug in my front room sharing a glass (well, a bottle and
a half) of wine with my friend Phil Hughes, hapless victim of the ITV commentary
team who were watching a different match to us. The poor man’s Andy Gray, Andy
Townsend, has never considered United generously. Gareth Southgate is hardly a
fan and in place of the technical ratiocination we desired, Alex McLeish in the
studio and Ally McCoist from the dugout had convinced themselves at half time
that Rangers had done brilliantly.

True, their top scorer Kenny Miller had after a quarter of an hour headed tamely
wide following a free kick from Davis and then a minute or two before the break
had had a narrow angle shot well blocked by van der Sar, but we had had two
penalty shouts refused, a Berbatov header saved, a Rooney header hit the bar and
a series of embarrassingly mishit volleys and drives. We even had the wildest
tackle, by Scholes whose studs miraculously got the ball before the follow
through got Lee McCulloch.

The television analysis was Alice in Wonderland and it was repeated to some
extent at the end. Apparently Rangers came out of their shell more in the
second half but you would have missed it by blinking. It happened just before
the hour when Evans let the ball bounce; Naismith nipped in and was thwarted
only by top class thinking and an outstretched hand from van der Sar. Other
than that Kyle Hutton had a hopeful poke from twenty five yards and for a couple
of minutes or so around the hour Rangers put us under a little pressure. The
rest was an unwitting tribute to Garry Birtles by the United strike force.

It would be tedious to detail the catalogue of misses; four from Rooney, three
from Berbatov, two from Carrick and one from Nani. Anderson came on for
Scholes, then Hernández and Obertan for Berbatov and Nani. As the minutes
passed the United chances came more frequently but it began to look as if a
scoreless night was written in the stars and the United crowd started chanting
“Thursday Night, Channel Five” at a Rangers side now seemingly destined for the
Europa Cup through lack of ambition.

Then Fábio capped his fine performance by running into the area to head
Carrick’s chip into the goalmouth. Naismith’s boot hit him so hard in the upper
chest that his head whiplashed with the impact and the floodlights caught little
blobs of perspiration and mucus flying as you see when a boxer is punched
forcefully. Even the Swiss pacifist had to draw the line at attempted
decapitation and it was difficult to credit how Naismith could argue.

Give him credit, Rooney did not flinch. The man who took away the verses that
could have moved us on, and who we lately find nothing to make a song about,
stayed aloof from any discourse, ball tucked under his arm. When settled, he
took several steps to his left and ran in an arc to drive home the ball wide
enough that it would not have mattered if Allan McGregor had dived the right
way. It took Andy Townsend three replays before he had reluctantly to admit
that it was a perfect penalty. He is probably now in psychotherapy. Rooney
looked pleased with himself and was met headlong by Ian O’Donoghue, a United
supporter who had encroached, an Irish rantipole. My dear, cling close to me;
it was almost the stuff of nightmare watching their mutual ebullition on the
turf in the freezing cold; 87 minutes 1-0.

Perhaps this penalty will turn out to be the catalyst for Rooney’s
repullulation. During his malfeasance and subsequent absence the barrenness has
sometimes chilled us to the bone but his statement prior to the match contained
no element of resipiscence. At least he played for the last six minutes or so
with something approaching his old self as Hernández twice missed opportunities
to double the score. Rangers at last gave it a go and Smalling enhanced his
confident display with a necessary clearance and a good tackle.

Thus United were through to the last sixteen, Rangers consigned to the Europa
league, and the rambunctious Irishman fined £400 and banned from attending
football matches for two years, which seemed a touch draconian. He was no
rampallion but at least he avoided the crueller punishment of being made to
watch all group games in Europe. It took the architect of Rangers’ failure,
Walter Smith, to talk some sporting sense to the television cameras and point
out that it was United who had run the game.

Paul Andrew James