Further Cause For Celebration

I missed United laying claim to yet another championship last night. Noi's massage lady had been called to the house and it would have seemed churlish to have asked to have the tv on whilst she was in the middle of ministering to my old body and doubtful leg. The massage itself was brilliantly relaxing and I didn't fancy mixing it with the tension of what I assumed, rightly, would be an edgy game. The only thing is that the Kakak keeps up a fairly critical monologue, generally in Malay, concerning the inadequacies of my muscles, veins, and other bits which can be a bit disconcerting, though she does advise me to kosong - empty my brain. Which is remarkably easy to do. It seems that much of me is keras - hard - and this does not reflect well on my character.

I wondered if at least a little of the tension within me related to what might have been going on at Old Trafford, but with another game in which to wind things up, plus the prospect of Liverpool dropping a couple points in their last two games, I can't say I was all that doubtful. In fact, I went to bed without knowing the result (the massage left me dead tired) and woke early to celebrate when the paper came.

The feeling of inevitability about the victory, not just mine but reflected by numerous pundits, is particularly odd considering the strength of the opposition. Looking at the top four you realise there are no pushovers there. It's been particularly interesting to see Liverpool develop to the point where they constitute a definite threat. Their consistency for much of the season suggests that next season will be real fun. It seems to me that what United have got, apart from one of the greatest managers ever, and a brilliant squad, is simply the habit of winning and the self-belief that comes with that happy place.

But one obvious thing that I've said before and bears repeating - in a time when managers sometimes last less than half a season, doesn't it occur to the guys in charge that lasting success is built on deep foundations and, as in the case of the mighty Ferguson, that might take years of doing the right thing, bit by little bit?