United They Fall

As old Blue Eyes might have put it – another season, another reason, for makin' money. Foul Play is actually approaching this season with rather more trepidation than usual, because...well...just because.

You can take it as read, for instance, that Man United will not be winning either the title or the Champions League this year, and not just because Alex Ferguson has been prevented from spending £16m of the fans' money on Dwight Yorke.

The classic 2-0 win over LKS Łódź last week brought back a flood of golden memories, as we sat around afterwards and compared it to United's titanic struggle with SK Košice last year, or the two-goal thriller against Rapid Vienna in '96.

You would have put up with it four years ago, when United were new to this sort of thing and could barely find Gothenburg on a map, much less get a result there, but after three years of Champions League participation, it is less than acceptable to take well over an hour to kill off a side of moon-faced no-marks like LKS Łódź.

An image which will remain with me for a long time is that of Ferguson on the bench, chuckling indulgently as Andy Cole shot straight at the goalkeeper Wyparło from three yards out. Would he do that if the same thing were to happen against Bayern Munich? More to the point, will Cole still be around to shoot straight at the Bayern Munich keeper in seven months' time?

The sight of the Łódź players was even more ennui-inducing, because the fuckers had shaved their heads after financial inducements from their team's sponsors, a physical detail which made their general play look even more lifeless and nondescript than it already was, and rendered them indistinguishable to the commentators.

Their few miserable attacking forays failed to test the great Jaap Stam (or Yop Stomp, as George Hamilton refers to him), who looked, eh, solid. He may be only three games into his United career, but already it ominously looks as though he was bought on the strength of a couple of assured performances against Newcastle United in last season's Champions League.

It would be unfair to condemn him so soon, but Stam may yet turn out to be one of those players who are extremely good at convincing agents, chairmen, coaches and managers how skilled they are, when all available televisual evidence suggests that they are, in fact, useless carthorses.

Pierluigi Casiraghi, a nine-goals-a-season man for Lazio, is one, as Chelsea are about to find out. Christophe Dugarry, who has somehow ended up with a World Cup winner's medal, is another. Stéphane Guivarc'h . . . no, there is something about this line of inquiry which deadens the soul. But right now, Stam is looking like a Liverpool player, or a Liverpool defender at least – and the rest of United's players aren't much better.

The signs are not good, the tides are out, the voodoo is all wrong, and the new home strip is awful.

At least United kept their unbeaten League record on the opening day of the season, unlike Chelsea. Against Coventry, the Blues' triumphant crowing about securing the services of Marcel Desailly for "only" £5m was silenced when he let the ball sail easily over his head for a simple goal. Twice.

It will have been of some comfort, I'm sure, to Chelsea fans that Desailly (a married man) was pictured in the French tabloids very recently, cavorting on a yacht in the company of several dollybirds. Nice to see he's keeping a fixed and alert mind on the challenges ahead.

The Arse for the title, then. But you didn't hear it from me.

North of the border, change is in the air. The Old Firm both defeated half-decent sides in Europe for the first time in living memory – in Celtic's case, they beat a very good Croatia Zagreb side who, on current form, you would back to beat Manchester United. In itself, this would be remarkable, but coming so soon after both Glasgow teams disgraced themselves against Irish part-time opposition, it is a real cause for sitting up and taking notice.

Rangers have concluded their annual close-season gutting of their playing staff, chopping away vast amounts of dead wood like Andy Goram, Stuart McCall and Ally McBeal – sorry, McCoist – and importing Giovanni van Bronckhorst and other exotic spices of the orient.

You always know it's the dawn of a new season when you glimpse headlines in the paper which contain the words "Rangers", "million", "imports" and "expensive". And you always know things haven't changed a bit when you see the dulcet features of Ian Ferguson still knocking around in the Huns' line-up.

When beating Dunfermline 5-0 on the opening day, Celtic graphically demonstrated the scale of the gap between themselves and most of their opponents, utilising their superior fitness and stamina by waiting till the Pars tired themselves out, and then knocking in three goals in the last four minutes.

Admittedly, they have only played four games so far, but apart from losing to Aberdeen in a mad game last Sunday, Celtic have yet to really fuck up, which is unusual for them, even this early in a season. We patiently await the sending-off of Stéphane Mahé and the last-minute penalty miss by Simon Donnelly in Zagreb which will knock them out of Europe, and then the natural order will be restored, and all will be right with the world.

And finally, Brazil have responded positively to their 3-0 beating by France in the World Cup, sacking Mário Zagallo and installing Mr Vanderlei Luxemburgo as the current incumbent.

You may remember that Eamon Dunphy once (ludicrously – Ed.) called John Waters "a wagon" on national television. Let's see if he tries it with this guy.