We played the reigning champions of Europe, now managed by the coach our hierarchy hoped would have been coaching City this season, and we got massacred, made to look like a bunch of schoolboys who had unexpectedly found themselves playing against real men, and given a real lesson they'll never forget. The team had a bad night collectively; Joe had the worst game he's ever had (and hopefully will ever have), Micah, Gael and the two CB's found any cross field ball too mysterious to deal with, our midfield four in permanent shock at being faced - again permanently - by five red shirts, so that they chased the ball like monkeys after a balloon as it moved from one "spare" opponent to another and then on to the destroyers in chief, Ribery and Robben. Sergio and Edin ran miles with no hope of ever getting the ball as our outnumbered midfield, always under pressure from the famous five, were reduced to playing a bad, long ball game, with all composure gone. Still, we can blame Edin, we can always blame Edin - some things never change.
But our worst performer was not on the pitch, but in the dugout - or rather the comfy seats which have taken its place. The man who is not Pep Guardiola. The man who improves every team he takes over. The man who gets the best out of every group of players he coaches. The man who plays exciting, attacking, possession football. The man who understands European football and will make City a real force in Europe. And, of course, the man who will always have a Plan B. Now, we on bluemoon are not football sophisticates but simple fans, yet even before the slaughter began, before a ball was kicked, even we feared that giving Munich a man advantage in the middle of the field was going to end in tears. After 10 minutes these fears were confirmed. For the next 35 minutes we wondered when the change would come. At half time it surely must, we were only 1-0 down, thank God! Half time came and went but we ploughed on with Plan A. Then it was 2-0. And 3-0. Two like for like changes and a third...And we actually had our first shot at goal - in the 78th minute. We did get a goal back, but only after Schweinsteiger and Robben had left the fray. How we had laughed at claims that United had dominated the last half hour against us! No point dominating a game you're losing 4-0 we jibed. Well, last night we got a kick with ten minutes left when we were 3-0 down. Looked OK in the last ten minutes, might even have given them a game if we'd played like that for 90 minutes, but at that stage it was way too little, way too late. And the manager's verdict? We played very badly: they played very well! Why hadn't he changed the shape of the team at any stage? Here his reply became totally incoherent and rambling - "We play a different way..." and then some incomprehensible nonsense!