During the week I had, as usual, allowed myself to be mildly spooked by the pro-rag media after their unrivalled performance at WHL and their superb result against Italy's fifth best. My nerves calmed quickly and I was already at ease by the time Bailly hacked us into the lead. It was obvious by then that the only one in the stadium who knew what the rags were supposed to be doing was Pep and he knew exactly what to do about it. OGS looked as though the goings on on the pitch were nothing to do with him, his players looked confused and actually dizzy by the time we took the lead so that they had no idea what they should be doing and s had no idea at all what their teammates behid them were doing. I was enjoying it thoroughly even after only 6 minutes. What impressed me most was the discipline of our players, especially Phil Foden, who kept his instincts to run at them in an attempt to rip the buggers to pieces to make sure we always remained in position and dared them to play football without a ball. Pep was understandably delighted after the match, not because he had come up with a novel brilliantly conceived plan because what City did was, for Pep, fairly obvious stuff, but because every player had obeyed his instructions and played as they were instructed to the letter. This was the most comprehensive stuffing of the Old Trafford goose I have ever seen and it was made sweeter by the fact we never got out of first gear and spent 90 minutes enjoying ourselves.
