May 2014

[Sweder]

*Sigh*
So far it's Geneva late nights five, Sweder early runs in the countryside nil.

I shall obfuscate my sloth by paying tribute to the Greatest Living Welshman, a man who, I am not shamed to say, has raised my pulse like few others can. A man who, when she first saw him in live action, caused Mrs S to stand up (along with 50,000 others) and remark 'Oh, he's good!'. A boy who, when a recently-arrived Alex Ferguson walked club legend Sir Bobby Charlton across the training ground to point out a new talent, caused Charlton, still a pitch width away, to say 'I can see him from here'.

He's been tearing opponents apart since 1991, scored the best individual goal I have ever seen* and still plays the game like a starving man falling on a free banquet. Last night Ryan Giggs, aged 66 and 1/2, took to the Old Trafford turf, most likely for the last time as a professional for his one and only club. He hasn't formally hung up his boots, but with a new gaffer likely on the way he afforded himself an untypically indulgent cameo for the last few minutes. He twisted the blood of Alex Bruce, son of former team-mate Steve (in the opposition duggout last night) before setting up the third goal. Sublime.

So long, Ryan, and thanks for all those magical moments.
It's been a wonderful run from Giggs.

   

*context: FA Cup semi final v fierce rivals, Arsenal; extra time, United down to ten men and hanging on for grim death; a goal that ultimately lead to a Premier League, FA Cup and Champions League treble. Don't see too many of those in a lifetime.