Louis Spence's Premier League Preview || The Purple People Eater

THE PURPLE PEOPLE EATER 24-4-08
Louis Spence

After the first leg of the semi-finals, everything is now as clear as mud. Very little daylight has emerged and the only significant change is Chelsea's elevation to second favourites in place of Barcelona. It's the away goal you see. Priceless.

As before the first games, Manchester United are still favourites and arch rivals Liverpool are still the outsiders. Yet it is still anybody's cup. One flash of brilliance from any of the many world class players on show could be enough to win both ties.

The latest betting reads:

Manchester United 7/4
Chelsea 2/1
Barcelona 3/1
Liverpool 5/1

United came away from the Nou Camp lamenting the missed penalty from Ronaldo which would surely have made them odds-on to lift their third European Cup. How satisfying it was that they were denied two other justifiable shouts for spot kicks, with Ronaldo the aggrieved party in both instances.

It was compulsive viewing watching those unhappy supporters and their 'orrible little manager, the Purple People Eater.

They have obviously used up their quota of freebies through the years in the highly debatable penners that Winky has conned from malleable Premiership referees, with Boro having suffered more than most. How does it feel boys. Not good? Shame.

The obsession that Benitez seems to have with this competition at the expense of all else continues. It is all very well when things are going right (as in their triumph of 2005 and their near miss in 2007) but when they are the only one of England's "Big Four" not yet to have won the Premiership title, questions are bound to be asked.

Jeez, even Blackburn have done that.

Would you pay £27million for a fantastic striker just to mothball him for much of the domestic campaign? Have a word, Senor.

When you also substitute the potent Babel for some benchwarming rabble, don't come looking for sympathy. Your decision making is at fault. Tinker tinker.

Chelsea must now fancy their chances of contesting their first European Cup Final having played poorly (shock!) only to be gifted a corking own goal from Riise. Before any Scousers dare claim the Blues were lucky, they should first consider just how fortunate Liverpool were to be there at all after dubious refereeing decisions again went their way against the misfiring Gunners.

This was despite the fact that Grant decided that Malouda was more of a threat than Joe Cole. Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing. Their oh so loyal fans could be spot on.

What an awful year Arsenal have endured. Since the Eduardo injury, which happened when the brilliant Van Persie was still sidelined, their limitations have been cruelly exposed. Incompetent defenders, poor captaincy and a forward with the Championship class of Bendtner filling in for genuine big hitters proved the undoing of a team that are invariably a joy to watch.

Schadenfreude abounds. Every year the hoi palloi of the Premiership (which are the sixteen other clubs and their fans who compete on totally unfavourable terms against the "Big Four") have had to endure the gloating of their success bloated disciples. Sickbag, please.

So as an unbiased observer, it is brilliant to watch the suffering when the glory boys suddenly come unstuck. Oh the tears, it's just not fair. Mam, Mam.

They don't like it up 'em, Captain.

If the bookies have this one right, as I suspect they have, we will have the highly entertaining business of the Manchester and Chelsea geezers scrabbling to get their visas ('Ere, wots one of them?) to visit Abramovich's old stamping ground for the Final. Brilliant.

How sweet will that be for the rest of us who have suffered at the hands of these cash laden teams and the lackey officials who seemingly make their Premiership matches a tad easier for them. Not forgetting our ever obliging FA. Grovel grovel.

Truth to tell I do not care which of the four win it. I wouldn't have a bet on any of them.

If however you fancy a punt, save your money and have a 100% guaranteed winning bet.

Reader, this one is on me (see below).

Louis Spence.

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