There is an added dimension to hating United in 3D
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Manchester United's manager Sir Alex Ferguson during his side's FA Cup match against Leeds United at Old Trafford. Photograph: Darren Staples/Reuters
There are many issues that come to mind as worth discussing this week, but interestingly almost all of them cause me some pain. The non-event that was the transfer window, for example. I'm still patiently waiting for the announcement of David Villa's signing which I'm sure is progressing in top secret at the moment. Sadly, even typing that places this article on a load of websites that will now claim that David Villa "has been linked with …" which will only serve to scare him away.
Another painful topic is Sky's announcement that it will be showing tomorrow's match in a number of pubs in 3D. This is part of the general roll-out of the world's most gimmicky video format in the accelerating effort to sell us something we already had, yet again. HD, for example, whose incredible clarity you stop noticing after a minute because you start watching the game instead. All HD tellies should come with a button that switches back to normal pictures once every five minutes just so you can go "Ah, wow, that is good!" all over again.
The 3D thing particularly pains me because I should have a really good 3D view of Sunday's game, from a seat in the stadium, which I've had to sacrifice because I'm on tour in Dublin. I'll be in a pub instead, and not just in 2D, but in a city that adores Man United. It will be impossible to find bar plus screen and there not be a load of United fans around it.
Which brings us to the No1 question causing me greater pain than all the others. Simply, how, please, somebody tell me, are United still in the hunt for trophies? Is it just me, or are they actually not that good?
Didn't they sell their best player (and one of the next best players too)? Isn't their midfield either too old, too young or too defensive? Aren't they supposed to be mired in debt, plagued by injuries and descending into madness?
Their manager has turned into a petulant curmudgeon, railing against the media, outlet by outlet, where even Sky Sports News can wear a shocked innocent look and cry: "Don't shoot the messenger." The way things are going with Fergie we're going to find him banning MUTV from the ground, just for showing the opposing teams in their match coverage. This is when he's not either complaining about not getting enough time or berating the fourth official for giving too much. An insult to the sport apparently.
And Darren Fletcher! Jesus, Darren Fletcher. Running around kicking people and then screaming in the ref's face when he gets a card for running round kicking people.
They just haven't looked anything near convincing this year. Teams who have outplayed them have included Sunderland, Burnley and Fulham. And yet, and yet … they were top of the league last Tuesday.
In a weaker moment I would compare them to The Hitcher, or The Terminator, or Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction or anyone of those 80s movie villains that won't lie down and accept that they're dead.
I've had a moment of inspiration though, and a better comparison has come to me. A proper grown-up sports journalist-type comparison.
United are Lance Armstrong. In particular, last year's Lance Armstrong, back competing at the highest level where he had no right to be. For almost the entire Tour de France Armstrong was in the leading group, not from making any attacks, but merely by always being there whenever the others made their attacks. It was a combination of experience and nous and sheer will that kept him in that leading group each day, so that even when you knew that he might not have the legs to go and actually win the thing, no one else was going to win it without shaking him off.
Eventually, Alberto Contador did just that but Armstrong held on for his podium finish. And Contador was driven almost mad looking over his shoulder at the 53-year-old he couldn't shake off.
Experience and nous and sheer will; it can get you a long way. And if I hadn't been trained by years of their success into hating United, I might even admit to being impressed. And hoping that, like Lance, it'll just be a podium finish.
I could write about the United game, but it would just get me agitated. It is possible to blindingly, vehemently hate 11 men while not hating the man standing beside you who loves them.
A match against Man United might be a good place to discuss the nature of hate.