by Well, something definitely happened there. But what exactly? There’s an affectionate joke about good hard-hitting Australian sports writing, which is basically saying This is The Thing, isn’t it?then spelling out exactly what The Thing is in 800 brutally frank words, bending The Thing into submission, shaking The Thing’s hand, and then, ideally, heading off to have a quick drink with The Thing.
What was going on here? Trapped energy. Derivative. Boredom. A good goal from Moisés Caicedo. The deadly football of advanced capitalism. Casemiro stretches a lot, often to surprisingly good defensive effect.
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Manchester United and Chelsea at least produced something recognizable during this 1-1 draw, namely a game of two halves, one of them confusing and almost surreal; the other was confused and blessed with a 10 minute spell where things actually happened.
The first half in particular was an extraordinary spectacle simply in its listlessness. It started off pretty well. Old Trafford always has that Christmas feeling at kick-off. No matter the weather, there is always energy in the ground for the team, and from the start there was a familiar feeling of will coming down from the stands. Here, Manchester United is still a ten-story love song.
At that moment: nothing happened. It’s hard to remember a meandering half of elite football, where the same sense of time was needlessly killed. Football is a sport made up of boring and forgettable plays. Boredom is a key part of sport and part of its beauty. Even Jorge Valdano’s description of English football as ‘shit on a stick’ was something of a compliment. These people will applaud anything as long as there is energy. For a long time, English football criticized itself for having energy without talent, too much drive, too much desire.
What was it in this context? Light and heat without content. Football as something empty and frictionless, humans in colorful shirts waiting for life to happen, JG Ballard-ball. At one point there was three minutes of build-up before a Bruno Fernandes free kick was sent into the part closest to the wall and you were grateful for the screams and frustration, because, well, it It’s just good to feel something.
Cole Palmer wobbled on the edges. Caicedo and Roméo Lavia controlled the center of the field. Lavia is a very good midfielder, taking the ball in any space, always angling his body to go forward, fearless in his energy. Although in the end the main function of Chelsea’s competent central pivot was to demonstrate how obvious it is that Casemiro really has no place at this level. It was like watching a middle-aged man try to play tennis with someone 20 years younger. At one point, Casemiro won the ball with a dramatic full-body challenge, to immense cheers, but even that was one of those moments oh, like the aging fast bowler’s doomed dive at mid-game, the only goal of which is not to have to turn and chase the ball to the boundary.
United started to move in the second half. Wesley Fofana got lost for the first goal. Robert Sánchez tapped Rasmus Højlund’s boot as he passed. Fernandes buried the penalty. It was nice to see Ruud van Nistelrooy jumping and punching the air in his turtleneck and overcoat. Van Nistelrooy has no obvious role in United’s future. The summer move, on the promise of an extended stay at Ten Hag, was a disaster for his own career path. It was a good moment for him.
Caicedo equalized in the 74th minute, a fine volley that was only enhanced by the sight of Enzo Maresca, still furious that his team were behind, strangely half-celebrating on the touchline with a face that still suggested that someone had just dismantled their Skoda Superb at a mini-roundabout.
And that was pretty much it, except for a bit of static towards the end, sound and fury without limits. The final score seemed appropriate. A point brings Chelsea back to fourth place. On the other hand, they could also expect to beat the 13th best team in the country.
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The keynote will remain the fundamental oddity of the occasion. It was basically a coming together of two forms of American ownership, successful vampirism versus unsustainable overspending. Chelsea’s 11 included nine players signed in the current era of wow-ball for a total fee of around half a billion. At United it was the usual collection of random footballers, half-thought-out ideas, substitutions, encounters, Mr Wrongs.
What will now happen to these postponements, to all these big players under contract who seem to have been at the club for decades, passed from regime to regime like a cracked china tea set? It’s no wonder this team has no role models. Here United had a player on the bench called ‘Amass’. Next week: an idea. A thought. A seat.
For now, the wheels keep turning, the content machine keeps turning. What exactly is being sold here? A redshirt middle-of-the-road team. Brand recognition, aura, floating energy. A point from a draw is at least a gift for the new manager as United wait in standby mode for the next leap forward; a club that has never more obviously needed A Thing.
