My colleagues Jacob, Albert and myself decided to make the most of a rare opportunity to leave the office relatively early by going for a nice dinner. We ended up heading for a cluster of lovely little restaurants over at Greenwood Ave just behind Nanyang Girls School off Bukit Timah Road. Jacob had heard that there was a lovely French restaurant there which was an off shoot of Les Amis, one of the most famous, (and expensive) restaurants in Singapore.
After arriving at Greenwood Ave, we found a number of interesting establishments to choose from. What caught the eye were the two French restaurants - Sebastien's and The Grill on Greenwood. For those who fancied something a little more Eastern, which we didn't, Raku, which served high class Japanese, would have been a good choice. The entire area did have a feel of been rather high class, the diners consisted of a large number of Caucasians equally mixed in with white collar professionals.
We ultimately decided on The Grill at Greenwood through some inexplicable three-way decision making process aided and abetted by Albert's desperate need to use the facilities. Overall, the menu for the restaurant was pretty standard, but they did supplement it with daily specials which I found more interesting. I decided on the Seafood Boulabaisse - a broth of various types of seafood such as prawns, scallops, mussels along with potatoes in a think gravy accompanied by bread. It was certainly a simple yet enjoyable dish. I didn't quite enjoy the glass of house white that I ordered to accompany it all that much - it was dry without having much character.
One thing I loved about French restaurants is the freshly baked bread that comes complimentary to every meal. I have never been that big a fan of bread in general (apart from sandwiches which is a UK student survival staple) but there is something about French bread with soft butter that is very homely and appealing.
Aftewards, the three of us repaired to a lovely little pub/bar just a few doors down. It has some interesting decor, in particular a foosball table strung from the ceiling. What really interested me was the fact that the pub had the most amazing list of Belgium beers I had seen in Singapore (or indeed anywhere). This made choosing a drink a mouth-watering and difficult process. I decided to try a beer I had never heard of before (there were many on the list of over 50 beers) the exact name of which escapes me now, instead of going for a Leffe or a Hoegaarden as I normally would have.
Final Verdict: The Grill at Greenwood offers decent French fare and a homely (if rather hard to get to) setting. An enjoyable enough experience if you have the spare cash, but definitely other places with more interesting menus and more charm. I would definitely recommend the bar though with for its amazing, one of a kind in Singapore, selection of Belgium beers.
4 March 2009 - I went back to Greenwood Ave for dinner recently and discovered that both Sebastian's and The Grill on Greenwood had closed down, to be replaced by other establishments. Sebastian's was also very meaningful to me, dining wise, because I had dinner there with Gillian - her treat as per the terms of a bet we made before our PPE final exams. The bet was that whoever got a first would buy the other person dinner at an expensive French restaurant. The person who got a second upper would buy the other person chicken rice. If we both got firsts we would split the bill at the French restaurant to celebrate and if we both got second uppers we would go for chicken rice to commiserate. Needless to say she got a first class degree, and I didn't.
22 May 2007
19 May 2007
FA Cup Final
It somehow seemed fitting, if not entirely predictable, that in a season dominated by Chelsea and Manchester Utd, they should meet to decide the outcome of the FA Cup. It was also fitting that the first competitive fixture at the New Wembley Stadium would be the FA Cup final, the Old Wembley having graced so many wonderful FA Cup moments over the years.
I had my reservations about this encounter, however. Two big clubs meeting in a final often results in cagey, cautious football with few chances. The 1996 final between Man Utd and Liverpool, the two dominant teams at that time, was a drab and rather stolid affair characterized by a midfield quagmire. My reservations proved to be well founded. It took a full 20 minutes for the first semblance of an attempt on goal to be made, and this was a 30 yard shot from Drogba that flew well wide of the mark. Chelsea were effectively stifling United's greater attacking flair and effectively playing the offside trap - Wayne Rooney being a victim on a number of occasions.
The second half was a definite improvement, with United edging it. Rooney finally managed to break loose, dribbling past two defenders before arrowing a shot in which was well saved by Cech. Giggs then flashed a drive narrowly over. Inevitably it seemed, the stalemale continued till the full time whistle. Two incidents in extra time defined the match. First, Petr Cech seemed to carry the ball over the goal line while making a save under pressure from Ryan Giggs, though a goal was not given. Replays confirmed that the ball had crossed the line, though it remained open to debate whether Cech was fouled. In any case, there was definitely a fair shout for a penalty for a foul on Giggs just before the goal line incident.
Inevitably it seemed, given their track record of last minute winners, Chelsea struck. Chelsea's strategy against so many teams this season, which proved effective against United today, involves slowly strangling their opponents, and then stepping up the pace in the last 20 minutes or so of a match, when frustration sets in and determination begins to flag. In this case, it took until the 116th minute, with Drogba playing a neat one two, receiving the return ball and planting it in the bottom corner to seal the victory. That Chelsea were even in the FA Cup final in the first place was down to an even more astonishing recovery after trailing 3-1 to Spurs at White Hart Lane in the quarter-finals. Here, as penalties loomed, we learned yet again to never rule Chelsea out.
So Chelsea deny United the double and gain a measure of revenge for losing the Premiership title to them. They also complete the domestic Cup double. It was a pity though that the two teams did not manage to produce the excitement, or the skillful football that was merited by such a grand occasion at such a grand new venue.
I had my reservations about this encounter, however. Two big clubs meeting in a final often results in cagey, cautious football with few chances. The 1996 final between Man Utd and Liverpool, the two dominant teams at that time, was a drab and rather stolid affair characterized by a midfield quagmire. My reservations proved to be well founded. It took a full 20 minutes for the first semblance of an attempt on goal to be made, and this was a 30 yard shot from Drogba that flew well wide of the mark. Chelsea were effectively stifling United's greater attacking flair and effectively playing the offside trap - Wayne Rooney being a victim on a number of occasions.
The second half was a definite improvement, with United edging it. Rooney finally managed to break loose, dribbling past two defenders before arrowing a shot in which was well saved by Cech. Giggs then flashed a drive narrowly over. Inevitably it seemed, the stalemale continued till the full time whistle. Two incidents in extra time defined the match. First, Petr Cech seemed to carry the ball over the goal line while making a save under pressure from Ryan Giggs, though a goal was not given. Replays confirmed that the ball had crossed the line, though it remained open to debate whether Cech was fouled. In any case, there was definitely a fair shout for a penalty for a foul on Giggs just before the goal line incident.
Inevitably it seemed, given their track record of last minute winners, Chelsea struck. Chelsea's strategy against so many teams this season, which proved effective against United today, involves slowly strangling their opponents, and then stepping up the pace in the last 20 minutes or so of a match, when frustration sets in and determination begins to flag. In this case, it took until the 116th minute, with Drogba playing a neat one two, receiving the return ball and planting it in the bottom corner to seal the victory. That Chelsea were even in the FA Cup final in the first place was down to an even more astonishing recovery after trailing 3-1 to Spurs at White Hart Lane in the quarter-finals. Here, as penalties loomed, we learned yet again to never rule Chelsea out.
So Chelsea deny United the double and gain a measure of revenge for losing the Premiership title to them. They also complete the domestic Cup double. It was a pity though that the two teams did not manage to produce the excitement, or the skillful football that was merited by such a grand occasion at such a grand new venue.
18 May 2007
A Not So Trivia(l) Matter
Over the past few weeks, 91.3FM has been running a competition called "faster than the speed of sound". It involves a lucky caller having the opportunity to answer as many questions in 90 seconds as possible without a wrong answer. Each person is allowed one pass. Up for grabs was a Breitling Blackbird Chronograph worth S$10,000. I have been trying desperately to get through and to have a shot at the watch but I haven't had any luck. Sadly, the competition is over and Ivan with 16 correct answers (a very good score) deservedly won.
The frustrating thing was having to sit in the car every morning listening to the people who did get a chance to win the watch foul up in the most stupendous fashion. I have discovered that the average Singaporean has an absolutely shocking lack of general knowledge (and I really am trying not to sound too snobby about this). Case in point: today's contestant. The final chance to dethrone Ivan who was sitting in the studio. One would hope that he would at least have a go at it. This is what happens. Question: What is the official language of Egypt? Answer: Egyptian. I nearly choked to death. To top it all off, the deejays decided to try a few more questions, strictly for fun: Question: In what year did the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor take place? Answer: (long pause for over 15 seconds) 1919? Not even the right World War, and even then, World War I was over by 1919.
This last contestant was probably a rather extreme example of daily proof that many Singaporeans have rather poor general knowledge. As a quiz fanatic and trivia afectionado, it has been rather painful to listen to. I know many others will have a different attitude from mine. They would question what is the use of knowing, say, that Pretoria (not Johannesburg or Cape Town) is the capitol of South Africa. Will it fundamentally improve your life? I really enjoyed teasing the Girlfriend about the fact that she had answered Adelaide when I had asked her what the capitol of Australia was and, panicking, claimed that Quebec was the capitol of Canada (she did get Ottawa after a minute or so which was a relief given that she went to Toronto on exchange for a term).
I guess I just take trivia and general knowledge a bit too seriously. Part of all the angst was due to the fact that I do really miss all the quizzing I was doing in the UK, whether as part of the Oxford University Quiz Squad or just random weekly pub quizzes from friends. I think I have been getting withdrawal symptoms. If anyone knows of fellow quiz fans, trivia whizzes, or pub quizzes in Singapore, I'm the first person you should call.
In case you wondered: the capitol of Australia is Canberra. Here is an old chestnut: what is the capitol of Brazil? And no, it's not Sao Paolo or Rio de Janerio
The frustrating thing was having to sit in the car every morning listening to the people who did get a chance to win the watch foul up in the most stupendous fashion. I have discovered that the average Singaporean has an absolutely shocking lack of general knowledge (and I really am trying not to sound too snobby about this). Case in point: today's contestant. The final chance to dethrone Ivan who was sitting in the studio. One would hope that he would at least have a go at it. This is what happens. Question: What is the official language of Egypt? Answer: Egyptian. I nearly choked to death. To top it all off, the deejays decided to try a few more questions, strictly for fun: Question: In what year did the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor take place? Answer: (long pause for over 15 seconds) 1919? Not even the right World War, and even then, World War I was over by 1919.
This last contestant was probably a rather extreme example of daily proof that many Singaporeans have rather poor general knowledge. As a quiz fanatic and trivia afectionado, it has been rather painful to listen to. I know many others will have a different attitude from mine. They would question what is the use of knowing, say, that Pretoria (not Johannesburg or Cape Town) is the capitol of South Africa. Will it fundamentally improve your life? I really enjoyed teasing the Girlfriend about the fact that she had answered Adelaide when I had asked her what the capitol of Australia was and, panicking, claimed that Quebec was the capitol of Canada (she did get Ottawa after a minute or so which was a relief given that she went to Toronto on exchange for a term).
I guess I just take trivia and general knowledge a bit too seriously. Part of all the angst was due to the fact that I do really miss all the quizzing I was doing in the UK, whether as part of the Oxford University Quiz Squad or just random weekly pub quizzes from friends. I think I have been getting withdrawal symptoms. If anyone knows of fellow quiz fans, trivia whizzes, or pub quizzes in Singapore, I'm the first person you should call.
In case you wondered: the capitol of Australia is Canberra. Here is an old chestnut: what is the capitol of Brazil? And no, it's not Sao Paolo or Rio de Janerio
17 May 2007
A Lovely Dinner
I had dinner with Kristin tonight. We had originally planned to catch Hot Fuzz, a UK indie film starring Bill Nighty (of Love Actually fame) and former James Bond Timothy Dalton, among others. Unfortunately, tickets had already sold out, due in a large part to my procrastination in booking them. I didn't have a chance to catch any of the movies for this year's Singapore European film festival (of which Hot Fuzz was featured), which was a shame.
One big positive of not getting tickets was that me and Kris had a chance to sit down to a long and unhurried dinner. She had read about Broth, a restaurant located in a redesigned chinese shophouse up on Duxton Hill , in IS magazine, where it received a favourable review, and it seemed likely a wonderful place to try. And so we went. The place took some finding, however. We wandered around the Tanjong Pagar area, past a series of shadier and shadier looking pubs and bars before we found the street leading up to Duxton Hill. The area on Duxton Hill (more akin to a mound if anything) was wonderfully quiet and rather secluded, rather incongruous compared to the neon signs and echoes of KTV singing emanating from the surroundings.
The restaurant itself was artfully designed and rather homely - I especially loved the way they had done up the lighting and how they kept a traditional feel with the high ceiling fans. The fare itself was excellent - my beef steak ordered medium rare was done just right with a sauce that was subtle and sides that complemented the dish both in terms of taste and aesthetics. The service was also excellent, although it helped that we were practically the only ones dining there that evening. Kristin ordered the pork chop which she found enjoyable indeed. The only slight downside was dessert - we ordered an apple pie with ice cream type thing, and I was rather surprised to find that it lacked any form of crust/pastry. The ice cream was lovely though.
I realised how much I enjoy a wonderful dinner like this, and I can only lament the fact, as mentioned on more than one occasion to Kris that I know very few people that enjoy fine dining. After all, as any aspiring connoisseur would know, it is the company as much as the food that makes a meal pleasant and often memorable. In that regard, I have Kristin to thank for such a wonderful evening. Hopefully there will be many more to come.
Final Verdict: Given its quiet environment, cosy converted shophouse setting, and tempting menu, Broth is an excellent choice, particularly on a date for two.
One big positive of not getting tickets was that me and Kris had a chance to sit down to a long and unhurried dinner. She had read about Broth, a restaurant located in a redesigned chinese shophouse up on Duxton Hill , in IS magazine, where it received a favourable review, and it seemed likely a wonderful place to try. And so we went. The place took some finding, however. We wandered around the Tanjong Pagar area, past a series of shadier and shadier looking pubs and bars before we found the street leading up to Duxton Hill. The area on Duxton Hill (more akin to a mound if anything) was wonderfully quiet and rather secluded, rather incongruous compared to the neon signs and echoes of KTV singing emanating from the surroundings.
The restaurant itself was artfully designed and rather homely - I especially loved the way they had done up the lighting and how they kept a traditional feel with the high ceiling fans. The fare itself was excellent - my beef steak ordered medium rare was done just right with a sauce that was subtle and sides that complemented the dish both in terms of taste and aesthetics. The service was also excellent, although it helped that we were practically the only ones dining there that evening. Kristin ordered the pork chop which she found enjoyable indeed. The only slight downside was dessert - we ordered an apple pie with ice cream type thing, and I was rather surprised to find that it lacked any form of crust/pastry. The ice cream was lovely though.
I realised how much I enjoy a wonderful dinner like this, and I can only lament the fact, as mentioned on more than one occasion to Kris that I know very few people that enjoy fine dining. After all, as any aspiring connoisseur would know, it is the company as much as the food that makes a meal pleasant and often memorable. In that regard, I have Kristin to thank for such a wonderful evening. Hopefully there will be many more to come.
Final Verdict: Given its quiet environment, cosy converted shophouse setting, and tempting menu, Broth is an excellent choice, particularly on a date for two.
15 May 2007
Rediscovering Kino
My colleague Jacob mentioned that he was thinking of going by Kinokuniya after work. I decided to join him and help save him some money with my Kinokuniya membership card and its accompanying 10% discount.
It was my first visit to Kino in a while (by my standards), which means that I hadn't gone there in over a month. Instead, I had been spending a lot more time in Borders mainly because: (a) Borders closes at 11pm and the shuttle service from work stops directly outside Borders. (b) I usually only get off work past 8pm meaning I won't get to spend much time browsing at Kino even if I do make the extra effort to walk over there and (c) the Borders coupon system - which offers better discounts, not to mention the loophole where you can effectively print as many copies of the coupon as you want.
Just an hour or so spent browsing was enough to underline exactly how much better Kino is in terms of their stock and range of titles as well as the layout. This is especially the case in terms of their history, politics and international relations, and to a lesser degree their fiction sections.
In the end, I restrained myself and I only bought two books: The Perfect King: A life of Edward III by Ian Mortimer. I had randomly purchased and read his The Greatest Traitor which was about the life of Sir Roger Mortimer (no relation to the author), who usurped the throne briefly from Edward II (after eloping with Isabella, Edward II's wife). Mortimer is surprisingly little remembered today, which is a waste considering his fascinating story. I had heard of the infamous, and probably spurious story of an English King being murdered by having a red hot poker shoved up his arse (so as not to leave a visible mark on his body) but I had not known until completing the book that the King in question was Edward II and the man reputedly responsible for the heinous act Sir Roger Mortimer.
The Perfect King is in many ways a continuation of the The Greatest Traitor, which ended with the young Edward III leading a coup against Mortimer, who acted as his regent, leading to Mortimer's execution and the establishment of Edward on the throne. What followed was, by most accounts, was one of the longest and most successful reigns in English history, and probably one of the most significant. Edward III's claims in France effectively started the Hundred Years War while his rule was also notable for a significant strengthening of the English monarchy. The Middle Ages is a fascinating period of history which I happen to know very little about and Ian Mortimer is a wonderfully readable writer so I am definitely looking forward to reading it.
I also bought Claire Messud's critically acclaimed turn of century New York novel The Emperor's Children. It was shortlisted as one of the best books of the year by the New York Times. I began reading it on the train ride home, and I found it a bit slow to get into, though there was the sense that this was a novel that needed time to develop and where perseverance would pay off.
6 May 2007
Weekend Hibernation
I hardly emerged from my room this weekend. Like an animal which goes into hibernation over the winter months only to emerge with the spring thaw, I enter into the comforts of my room on a friday evening, only to emerge, rather disgruntled, for the resumption of work the following monday morning. Besides sleeping for long periods, I have even taken to having meals in my room, especially dinner on Sunday night.
The troubling thing is: this is not a recent phenomenon. Too many weekends have gone by with me seemingly in a state of stasis. So what exactly did happen this weekend? I did make a fair start at packing up my room, clearing most of the books off of the floor and making a stab at organizing things. I also managed to catch the Manchester derby match on Saturday night as well as the Arsenal vs Chelsea match the following day. But, in all fairness, I have to face the fact that nothing much was accomplished and a lot of time was wasted randomly surfing the net, and playing random computer games.
The fact is I am not a terribly energetic, go getting person by nature, which makes it all to easy to fall into a funk of laziness. I have to resolve to plan my weekends, and my time in general, more effectively. After all, there are so many things to do, so many books to read, so many people to keep in contact with. It would be a pity indeed to spend all this time hibernating in my room and not getting some of these things done. But then again, hibernating in itself serves a fundamental purpose - a tonic for the endless rush that constitutes everyday life.
4 May 2007
Not on a Slow Boat to China
My parents left for Beijing today, with the girlfriend* driving them off to the airport. This was a matter of some irritation to me as my mother had broached this subject with the girlfriend earlier in the week, claiming that she had "only been joking" in asking her to give them a lift. I pointed out the fact that such a comment would be taken rather seriously and lead to the girlfriend feeling obliged to agree. Which is precisely what she intended.
I still remember what happened the last time we sent my parents off to the airport when they left on a trip to Montreal. On returning to the car, we found the engine wouldn't start due to battery problems, necessitating an instantaneous decision to join AA Singapore and a call for emergency help. To top it all off, when they returned from their trip, my mom called the girlfriend to get her to call the AA again as the car still couldn't start and it was determined that we had to change the battery.
On this occasion, we arrived at the airport to discover that my father had gotten the flight time wrong and they were due to depart an hour later - at 1.15am instead of 12.15am as previously thought. That meant a trip to Swensen's with one of my dad's students and his parents (and somewhat clingy girlfriend) in attendance. My mother, as she so often does, did her utmost to enliven the conversation with innumerable anecdotes from the 'family archive'. At least the ice cream helped to leaven the bitter aftertaste.
The person I feel for the most in this whole situation was my poor girlfriend. She had to drive everyone to the airport, waste an additional hour or so there, and then drive me and my sister home. To top it all off, she had to be up early the next morning to travel to Tampines JC to support her students at a public speaking competition. There is an old joke that asks what is the real punishment for polygamy. The punchline of course is having more than one mother-in-law. How true.
*Using the moniker 'the girlfriend' is not meant to be disrespectful. I have made a conscious decision not to reveal the identities of some individuals in this blog, unless they wish otherwise. In using this term, I also tip my hat to Colin Goh, the noted Singaporean filmaker, writer and humourist who calls his wife 'the wife' in his regular columns for the Straits Times.
I still remember what happened the last time we sent my parents off to the airport when they left on a trip to Montreal. On returning to the car, we found the engine wouldn't start due to battery problems, necessitating an instantaneous decision to join AA Singapore and a call for emergency help. To top it all off, when they returned from their trip, my mom called the girlfriend to get her to call the AA again as the car still couldn't start and it was determined that we had to change the battery.
On this occasion, we arrived at the airport to discover that my father had gotten the flight time wrong and they were due to depart an hour later - at 1.15am instead of 12.15am as previously thought. That meant a trip to Swensen's with one of my dad's students and his parents (and somewhat clingy girlfriend) in attendance. My mother, as she so often does, did her utmost to enliven the conversation with innumerable anecdotes from the 'family archive'. At least the ice cream helped to leaven the bitter aftertaste.
The person I feel for the most in this whole situation was my poor girlfriend. She had to drive everyone to the airport, waste an additional hour or so there, and then drive me and my sister home. To top it all off, she had to be up early the next morning to travel to Tampines JC to support her students at a public speaking competition. There is an old joke that asks what is the real punishment for polygamy. The punchline of course is having more than one mother-in-law. How true.
*Using the moniker 'the girlfriend' is not meant to be disrespectful. I have made a conscious decision not to reveal the identities of some individuals in this blog, unless they wish otherwise. In using this term, I also tip my hat to Colin Goh, the noted Singaporean filmaker, writer and humourist who calls his wife 'the wife' in his regular columns for the Straits Times.
3 May 2007
Borders Binge
I discovered that Borders was having a coupon promotion (25% off the total bill on all books, CDs, DVDs) and I just happened to mention it to my sister. So, it was quite inevitable that the two of us tromped down to Borders to take advantage of the offer (it is open to question as to exactly who exactly is being taken advantage of here). It is worth mentioning that dear sister of mine couldn't quite resist the temptation posed by discounted books despite the fact that she had an examination the next morning!
Despite valiant attempts to limit the damage, so to speak, we managed to clock up close to $400 in purchases between us. Purchases on my part included the following: Armageddon Averted by Joel Kotkin, a book about the collapse of the Soviet Union, and A History of Modern Russia by Robert Service. I have a keen interest in 20th Century history and I lack knowledge of Soviet or Russian history outside the context of the Cold War International Relations paper I studied at University which had whetted my appetite for more.
I also bought a copy of Guests of the Ayatollahs by Mark Bowden, about the American Embassy hostage taking crisis in Iran in 1979. Bowden had earlier written Black Hawk Down about the American debacle in Somalia in 1993 (which was turned into a Ridley Scott movie). Although it smacked of being a populist account, I decided to buy it anyway. I have taken a keen interest in Iranian history after travelling there in January, and reading All the Shah's Men about Iran's great Prime Minister Mossadegh and the end of democratic rule in Iran.
Other books that were bought in this particular spree included The Last Oil Shock about the "imminent extinction of petroleum man". I decided not to be put off by the obviously over-exaggerated title and bought it based on the view that it would provide a useful introduction to oil and energy issues.The final purchase was my main indulgence that evening as I succumbed at the sight of a 10 book boxed set of P.G Wodehouse books collectively called Jeeves and Chums. I absolutely fell in love with Wodehouse's dry biting British humour when I first read him at Oxford. Yes, it may be true that he recycles most of his plots and his characters are carbon copies of one another. In the end, all that matters to me is that inimical verve and wit.
2 May 2007
Champion's League Heartbreak
They came to the brink of the promised land only to fall short once again. Manchester United came into this year's Champions League semi-finals with such high hopes. They had spent much of the season playing sparkling football, producing a remarkable display of attacking football in humiliating Roma 7-1 at home in the previous round.
No doubt United had let in two goals at Old Trafford, a worry given that away goals are always crucial in two legged cup ties, but Rooney's dramatic late winner at Old Trafford the previous week had given them a real boost. The first leg had served to accentuate the doubts over United's makeshift defence, but the optimists would argue that in United's case the best form of defence was attack. With Cristiano Ronaldo, Rooney, Giggs and co. in such sparkling form who would bet against this being enough?
However, if one were to look at things objectively, there was much less cause for optimism. To begin with, United's away record in Europe over the past few seasons has been abysmal. One of the few away victories that United had managed in the competition over the past two years was the 1-0 win at French minnows Lille in this year's round of 16. To accentuate this, United's record in Italy has also been very poor, the exception to which was their semifinal win at Juventus in 1999 when they went on to win the Champions League and complete the treble. There was no escaping the fact that the road to the final lay through Italy and that United's heroics at home in the second leg of the quarterfinal tie overshadowed the fact that they had been beaten 2-1 in Rome, and tactically outmaneuvered for much of that match.
But, at the very least, one would expect a close, hard fought match. This was, after all, the semi-finals of the premiere cup competition in the world. Instead, what we witnessed on a rain-soaked afternoon at the San Siro was nothing short of abject capitulation. For United fans, it was a form of pure agony.
Admittedly, I only woke up in time for the second half of the match. What I was greeted with was not encouraging. Kaka had managed to drill the ball into the bottom corner after a static United defence allowed Seedorf to head the ball on after only 11 minutes. Worse was to follow. Defending that would not have been out of place in a Monty Python sketch saw Heinze pass the ball to an unprepared and unsuspecting Vidic, who skied it towards the touchline where it fell invitingly for a Milan player to cross back into the box. The clearing header fell to Clarence Seedorf, the Dutchman evading a desperate lunge from the still befuddled Vidic before gleefully hammering the ball past his hapless countryman Van Der Sar in the United goal.
United fans could still take comfort from the fact that they had been faced with a similar situation before. In 1999 they were 2-0 down in Turin from two early Pippo Inzaghi goals and facing elimination unless they scored twice. That same Inzaghi was leading the Milan attacking line 8 years on. That was where the parallels ended. This was a different evening and this was clearly a different United side. Then, there was Roy Keane driving United forward and scoring a real captain's goal to initiate the fightback. His snarling determination and boundless energy had a parallel in 2007 - in the form of Milan's bulldog of a midfielder Gennaro Gattuso. In comparison, Keane's replacement in central midfield, Michael Carrick, wore a blank look of befuddled incomprehension for most of the match.
The real disappointment was not the fact that United lost, but the completely toothless way in which they capitulated to a Milan side that was vastly superior in almost every department. Milan were self-assured, passing the ball around with aplomb, closing down United effectively and giving Scholes, Carrick and Rooney hardly any time on the ball. As the match wore on, there seemed to be hardly a shred of self-belief in the United players, as they repeatedly passed the ball to their Milan opponents and ran aground against the solid brick wall that was the Milanese defence.
Cristiano Ronaldo, more than anyone else, was representative of United's performance as a whole. When faced with adversity, he regressed to some of the worst of his footballing excesses. The experienced Milan defenders were more than happy to watch him complete a half dozen step-overs before gleefully dispossessing him, Ronaldo having failed abjectly in his attempts to bamboozle them. As the frustration and desperation mounted, United found themselves playing more and more into Milan's hands. The Italians are renown at defending in depth and soaking up pressure, but there was hardly a need for a siege mentality on this occasion, mainly due to the fact that the United were firing blanks. Dida, the Milan custodian was hardly tested.
When the final nail in the coffin came, it was merely a microcosm of United's desperately poor defending across both legs and of Milan's gleeful opportunism in exploiting it. As yet another United attack was broken up with ease by the Milan defence, a ball was played over the top and Gilardino ran through an enormous crater in the United defence to calmly stroke the ball into the bottom corner.
A brief aside must be made at this point, with regards to the behaviour of the Milan team. Alex Ferguson had called for the game to be played in a spirit of fair play, no doubt bearing in mind the ugly incidents in Rome the previous month and further threats of violence from the right wing Italian ultras. There is no doubt that Milan's reputation for being a wily team is well deserved. Already clearly in the ascendancy, with the victory more or less secured, the Milan players engaged in needless time-wasting tactics. I have been a critic of the new change in the rules with regards to the referee being the arbitrator of stopping play in event of an injury to a player, but after seeing Milan players dropping like flies with "cramp" or other supposed ailments, I am forced to admit that there is some merit to FIFA's decision. I for one, can hardly blame United for failing to return the ball after yet another example of a Milan player putting it out of play to aid an "ailing" teammate, though it certainly raised the ire of a pent up Gattuso.
In the end, as United manager Sir Alex Ferguson readily admitted, it was Milan's vast experience on the big stage that made the vital difference between the two sides. Players like their rock solid centre backs Kaladze and Nesta, the midfield trio that dominated the game Gattuso, Pirlo and Seedorf and of course the peerless Kaka were all part of the 2003 Champions Cup winning team, not to mention the heartbreak of Istanbul in 2005 when they contrived to blow a 3-0 advantage against Liverpool. In comparison, Ronaldo, Carrick and much of the rest of the United team have never been in this kind of position and it showed. Milan's European pedigree is undisputed. United, barring the heroics of Barcelona in 1999, have too often fallen at this hurdle.
Roma had called for Milan to avenge them in this semi-final against United and to salvage Italian pride. They certainly did so at the San Siro this evening. The scoreline was perhaps not quite the humiliation that the 7-1 result at Old Trafford suffered by Roma was, but the nature of the display on the pitch certainly was. United had been out-thought, out-fought, and out-played. This brings up a intriguing repeat of the heroic Champion's League Final in 2005 and Liverpool's dramatic fightback, this time in Athens, not Istanbul. One looks forward in anticipation to a mouth-watering clash. Let us just hope that it won't be as one-sided and painful to watch as this night in Milan.
No doubt United had let in two goals at Old Trafford, a worry given that away goals are always crucial in two legged cup ties, but Rooney's dramatic late winner at Old Trafford the previous week had given them a real boost. The first leg had served to accentuate the doubts over United's makeshift defence, but the optimists would argue that in United's case the best form of defence was attack. With Cristiano Ronaldo, Rooney, Giggs and co. in such sparkling form who would bet against this being enough?
However, if one were to look at things objectively, there was much less cause for optimism. To begin with, United's away record in Europe over the past few seasons has been abysmal. One of the few away victories that United had managed in the competition over the past two years was the 1-0 win at French minnows Lille in this year's round of 16. To accentuate this, United's record in Italy has also been very poor, the exception to which was their semifinal win at Juventus in 1999 when they went on to win the Champions League and complete the treble. There was no escaping the fact that the road to the final lay through Italy and that United's heroics at home in the second leg of the quarterfinal tie overshadowed the fact that they had been beaten 2-1 in Rome, and tactically outmaneuvered for much of that match.
But, at the very least, one would expect a close, hard fought match. This was, after all, the semi-finals of the premiere cup competition in the world. Instead, what we witnessed on a rain-soaked afternoon at the San Siro was nothing short of abject capitulation. For United fans, it was a form of pure agony.
Admittedly, I only woke up in time for the second half of the match. What I was greeted with was not encouraging. Kaka had managed to drill the ball into the bottom corner after a static United defence allowed Seedorf to head the ball on after only 11 minutes. Worse was to follow. Defending that would not have been out of place in a Monty Python sketch saw Heinze pass the ball to an unprepared and unsuspecting Vidic, who skied it towards the touchline where it fell invitingly for a Milan player to cross back into the box. The clearing header fell to Clarence Seedorf, the Dutchman evading a desperate lunge from the still befuddled Vidic before gleefully hammering the ball past his hapless countryman Van Der Sar in the United goal.
United fans could still take comfort from the fact that they had been faced with a similar situation before. In 1999 they were 2-0 down in Turin from two early Pippo Inzaghi goals and facing elimination unless they scored twice. That same Inzaghi was leading the Milan attacking line 8 years on. That was where the parallels ended. This was a different evening and this was clearly a different United side. Then, there was Roy Keane driving United forward and scoring a real captain's goal to initiate the fightback. His snarling determination and boundless energy had a parallel in 2007 - in the form of Milan's bulldog of a midfielder Gennaro Gattuso. In comparison, Keane's replacement in central midfield, Michael Carrick, wore a blank look of befuddled incomprehension for most of the match.
The real disappointment was not the fact that United lost, but the completely toothless way in which they capitulated to a Milan side that was vastly superior in almost every department. Milan were self-assured, passing the ball around with aplomb, closing down United effectively and giving Scholes, Carrick and Rooney hardly any time on the ball. As the match wore on, there seemed to be hardly a shred of self-belief in the United players, as they repeatedly passed the ball to their Milan opponents and ran aground against the solid brick wall that was the Milanese defence.
Cristiano Ronaldo, more than anyone else, was representative of United's performance as a whole. When faced with adversity, he regressed to some of the worst of his footballing excesses. The experienced Milan defenders were more than happy to watch him complete a half dozen step-overs before gleefully dispossessing him, Ronaldo having failed abjectly in his attempts to bamboozle them. As the frustration and desperation mounted, United found themselves playing more and more into Milan's hands. The Italians are renown at defending in depth and soaking up pressure, but there was hardly a need for a siege mentality on this occasion, mainly due to the fact that the United were firing blanks. Dida, the Milan custodian was hardly tested.
When the final nail in the coffin came, it was merely a microcosm of United's desperately poor defending across both legs and of Milan's gleeful opportunism in exploiting it. As yet another United attack was broken up with ease by the Milan defence, a ball was played over the top and Gilardino ran through an enormous crater in the United defence to calmly stroke the ball into the bottom corner.
A brief aside must be made at this point, with regards to the behaviour of the Milan team. Alex Ferguson had called for the game to be played in a spirit of fair play, no doubt bearing in mind the ugly incidents in Rome the previous month and further threats of violence from the right wing Italian ultras. There is no doubt that Milan's reputation for being a wily team is well deserved. Already clearly in the ascendancy, with the victory more or less secured, the Milan players engaged in needless time-wasting tactics. I have been a critic of the new change in the rules with regards to the referee being the arbitrator of stopping play in event of an injury to a player, but after seeing Milan players dropping like flies with "cramp" or other supposed ailments, I am forced to admit that there is some merit to FIFA's decision. I for one, can hardly blame United for failing to return the ball after yet another example of a Milan player putting it out of play to aid an "ailing" teammate, though it certainly raised the ire of a pent up Gattuso.
In the end, as United manager Sir Alex Ferguson readily admitted, it was Milan's vast experience on the big stage that made the vital difference between the two sides. Players like their rock solid centre backs Kaladze and Nesta, the midfield trio that dominated the game Gattuso, Pirlo and Seedorf and of course the peerless Kaka were all part of the 2003 Champions Cup winning team, not to mention the heartbreak of Istanbul in 2005 when they contrived to blow a 3-0 advantage against Liverpool. In comparison, Ronaldo, Carrick and much of the rest of the United team have never been in this kind of position and it showed. Milan's European pedigree is undisputed. United, barring the heroics of Barcelona in 1999, have too often fallen at this hurdle.
Roma had called for Milan to avenge them in this semi-final against United and to salvage Italian pride. They certainly did so at the San Siro this evening. The scoreline was perhaps not quite the humiliation that the 7-1 result at Old Trafford suffered by Roma was, but the nature of the display on the pitch certainly was. United had been out-thought, out-fought, and out-played. This brings up a intriguing repeat of the heroic Champion's League Final in 2005 and Liverpool's dramatic fightback, this time in Athens, not Istanbul. One looks forward in anticipation to a mouth-watering clash. Let us just hope that it won't be as one-sided and painful to watch as this night in Milan.
1 May 2007
(Free from) Labour Day
I decided to use the Labour Day public holiday to attempt to revive my blog. You soon come to realise that a public holiday is a very welcome respite once you enter the working world, even if its sole use is to catch up on sleep and catch up with old friends.
My entire holiday was spent at home. Some relatives (dad's side of the family) came over for lunch and that necessitated my physical presence, if not my actual involvement. My sister, on account of her no longer living at home, managed to exempt herself - though she did come back for dinner later that evening only to head to the doctor's and procure for herself a 3 day MC.
This holiday was a microcosm of my weekends/free time since starting work - nothing much getting accomplished in general. Not exactly a malaise - just the inevitability of sinking into a routine of staying in and not doing much of anything at all.
Books that ought to have been organised since the beginning of the year are still stacked in corners of the room. My piles of CDs have yet to be organised, although that is partly due to the fact that I haven't got round to purchasing a new CD player to replace the one that accompanied me back from Oxford, albeit in a state where it only works intermittently.
My attempts to blog regularly seems to have gone the same way. Let's hope that things will be different, now.
My entire holiday was spent at home. Some relatives (dad's side of the family) came over for lunch and that necessitated my physical presence, if not my actual involvement. My sister, on account of her no longer living at home, managed to exempt herself - though she did come back for dinner later that evening only to head to the doctor's and procure for herself a 3 day MC.
This holiday was a microcosm of my weekends/free time since starting work - nothing much getting accomplished in general. Not exactly a malaise - just the inevitability of sinking into a routine of staying in and not doing much of anything at all.
Books that ought to have been organised since the beginning of the year are still stacked in corners of the room. My piles of CDs have yet to be organised, although that is partly due to the fact that I haven't got round to purchasing a new CD player to replace the one that accompanied me back from Oxford, albeit in a state where it only works intermittently.
My attempts to blog regularly seems to have gone the same way. Let's hope that things will be different, now.
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