ON a weekend dominated by wet weather and a wedding, there really wasn’t much time for the telly — well, not unless you stole away from the reception with the stealth of a tiger.
That was the story of my weekend, as I had to sneak out during the speeches to catch the Sharks ravage the toothless chops, I mean chaps, from the Cape.
Yes, these may be pages concerned with football, but Patrick Lambie’s quick feet wouldn’t be amiss in a Chiefs jersey if he carries on like that.
But I am just saying.
Besides, he looks much better when he is steam-rolling past Schalk Burger, destined for the try-line and a place in the Bok team.
Enough of that though, before our resident rugby scribe hurls his false teeth at me for trespassing on his territory.
The bit of footy action that I did catch a glimpse of was rather tasty, though.
Clearly, if you do not wear red, you just don’t get crucial decisions in your favour at Old Trafford.
The debate about Nani’s “goal” is still rambling on, and it is easy to see why.
Yes, one must play to the whistle, which keeper Gomes naively didn’t, but why then did Mark Clattenburg consult his linesman if he was so sure it was a goal?
Nani, whether he was fouled or not, cannot just switch between rugby and football every three seconds.
Spurs were rightly outraged, but perhaps they should recall the pizza-sized slice of luck they got at Fulham the other weekend.
What goes around, hey …
The other team in Manchester, meanwhile, has been rather silent over the last fortnight.
You would swear they have gone into hiding.
It has been said before, in this very column, that City will not last the pace at the top.
They do not have a team, nor do they possess that ingredient that all good teams have.
A bit of mongrel.
My sports master in high school had a more apt description for this quality, but I fear I may offend the sensitive sorts if I reproduce it here.
Anyway, City are showing a knack for having no appetite for the lesser lights in the Premiership.
They always want to prove a point against the big boys, but then they forget how to win against Stoke and Wolves.
And it hasn’t taken long, but Roberto Mancini has already been labelled as a dead man walking.
Who didn’t see that coming?
City is a circus waiting to erupt.
I wondered why they had let their hardest-working striker, Craig Bellamy, go on loan, and this weekend’s loss made me wonder again.
The Welshman may be bit of a tit, but he lives for running at the opposition and not giving up.
I think City fans would much rather have his industry than the artistry of some other big earners at the moment.
Bellamy is banging them in for Cardiff, while his old mates are starting to fight each other. Yaya Toure and James Milner had to be pulled apart during the shambles against Arsenal.
That won’t be the last time, either.
Speaking of spirit, someone at Liverpool must have slipped in a bit of Red Bull — or Red Label — into the half-time water, because the Scousers have finally got on a run.
Look, it is only two games, but when you haven’t won two in a while — never mind in a row — it does cause one’s heart to get a little flutter.
I have a small wager regarding Liverpool, and it all concerns them winning four in a row.
My counterpart reminded me that his side are now halfway to earning him a free lunch, but I responded by pointing out that they have Chelsea next in the league.
If they win that, I’ll buy him three lunches!