|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
Even if you only saw it on TV, you don't like football much and you can't even stand Manchester United, it was a two-minute miracle you will tell your grandchildren about.
The final 120 seconds of the 1999 European Cup Final in Barcelona were simply the most breathtaking in sporting history. The two minutes transcended sport. It demeans the occasion to describe it merely as ' dramatic'. 'Sensational' similarly sounds hollow.
No, this was politics, it was history, it was art, it was destiny. It was an object lesson in life.
I was one among the 200 million people worldwide watching it at home. We all, doubtless, have our own stories. Mine was that I had had an indescribably awful day.
Everything had gone wrong. It seemed like nothing would ever go right again. Despite having looked forward to the game all week - I occasionally go to home games at Old Trafford - I almost couldn't be bothered to watch. And I will always be grateful that I did.
What the late goal scorers, Sheringham and Solskjaer (and 11 other players I've never met, probably never will, but will always love in a way), achieved in those moments inspired me.
I am confident millions of you lucky enough to have watched the game will still have the same warm, refreshed feeling of hope it gave.
Because of those two minutes, I will always know that if you keep trying, you can succeed. And that if you become complacent, as those poor German guys did, life has a habit of biting back. For those unlucky enough to have missed it, this was the story so far at 9.34pm on Wednesday.
For 90 minutes, the men in scary grey from Munich fulfilled every sporting cliche the English have come to fear from Germany. They looked stronger, fitter, more skilful and more athletic than a United team depleted by injury and suspensions.
Bayern Munchen - even the name is as frightening as Panzer or Wehrmacht - were not only holding steadfastly on to a one-goal lead, they were nearly three up, having narrowly missed scoring twice.
In the last four minutes of normal time, United had that raggedy heroic look we in Britain simultaneously admire and despair of. They bombarded the awesomely efficient-looking German goalie with shots and headers; but they were tired, beaten, English, Dunkirk-spirit attempts.
The Germand were going to win the most important trophy in club football. It was so bloody inevitable; our best, still no match for theirs.
89m 30s: With 30 seconds to go before time-added- on, ITV commentator Clive Tyldesley remarks ruefully that what we need now is for the fourth official to hold up a board announcing an extra 20 minutes of play.
Ron Atkinson deflates that dream, pointing out there have been hardly any injuries and there is little time to add.
89m 48s: Solskjaer wins a throw-in to the left of the Bayern goal, having harried a German defender who was trying to deal with a loose back pass from a colleague. The throw, Tyldesley says, is 'the base camp for a final assault on the Bayern lead'.
89m 57s: The Norwegian, less than two minutes from becoming United's ultimate hero, is perfunctorily relieved of the ball by Gary Neville, who wants to take a long throw.
90m 00s: As Neville throws the ball into the centre of the Bayern penalty area, the fourth official holds up the electronic board indicating three minutes of overtime.
90m 02s: A defender clears the ball, but it is picked up by David Beckham in the unaccustomed Bobby Moore-like role he has had to take up for the night, controlling the attack from the rear, distributing the ball about with a precision and maturity which has impressed everyone all evening.
90m 15s: Beckham heads, controls, swings around to the left of the goal, then flicks on to Neville on his right.
90m 20s: Neville's reasonable cross is deflected by Effenberg for a corner.
90m 26s: 'Can Manchester United score?' asks the excellent Tyldesley rhetorically, adding - oddly perhaps - 'They always score.' Ron Atkinson notices Manchester goalie Peter Schmeichel has abandoned his goal and come up for the kick.
90m 28s: Beckham's corner reaches Schmeichel, who with his back to goal heads to Yorke on the right. Yorke heads back into the central melee, and a Bayern player boots the ball out of the area. But Giggs volleys it back to the left of goal.
It's not the world's greatest volley, but Sheringham, the frontmost striker, is there to redirect it into the left corner at 90m 36s.
Bayern goalkeeper Kahn is claiming offside. Sheringham looks to the linesman for an instant, but there's no flag. Miracle Part 1 is achieved.
91m 26s: Amid the celebrations on field, it has taken almost a minute for Bayern to kick off again. They have 84 seconds to save the game before it goes into extra time.
91m 39s: Bayern launch an attack straight from the kick, but United's defenders are solid.
91m 54s: The ball is lobbed upfield to Solskjaer, now 39 seconds from his destiny. Keen as a terrier, he spars with Bayern's Kuffour to the left of the Bayern goal, where he had fashioned the attack which led to the first United goal.
92m 02s: Kuffour defends well, holding Solskjaer off, but is forced to give away the corner. If Bayern can hold on for 58 seconds, they at least have extra time to re-establish their dominance of the game.
92m 05s: Atkinson, as Beckham tees up the corner, notes that Schmeichel is staying back in his goal this time. Suddenly, United have something worth keeping. 'Is this their moment?' asks Tyldesley.
92m15s: Beckham, with a cool glance to his left into a straggle of photographers and fans - a nervous habit, perhaps - floats over his corner kick, the most important of his career, which seemed to have collapsed less than a year ago, after the sending-off debacle for England against Argentina.
92m16s: Beckham's corner lands more or less sweetly for Sheringham, who nods the ball fiercely down to his right. This may have been a slightly off-target shot, but it doesn't matter, because lurking a little to the right, his shirt being pulled by Kuffour, is Solskjaer.
He breaks away from the maul, and his right boot, at an awkward angle but perfectly directed, is there at 92m 17s, 43 seconds from time, to win the match. Kahn could not have stopped it had he been the greatest goalkeeper in the world.
Disconsolate isn't the word to describe him and the two other defenders in the Bayern goal as Solskjaer skids off to be mobbed by Yorke, Sheringham, Butt and Stam. The Germans are shocked, almost bereaved. It's the look you see seconds after people have witnessed a car crash.
92m 25s: At the other end of the pitch, Schmeichel turns a somersault.
93m 26s: The statutory minute of delirious celebration on the pitch is being given back in part by the referee to Bayern to give them an implausible last stab. They kick off and rush at Schmeichel's goal.
93m 33s: Butt makes a hefty clearance from the middle of the United defence.
93m 34s: A Bayern player on the centre spot heads the clearance back, but it's the last action of the game.
93m 36s: The final whistle is blown.
Some minutes afterwards - who knows, who's counting now? - Alex Ferguson is collared by ITV. His glasses have disappeared somewhere. He grins and holds his head as if to try to compact into his brain the enormity of what happened in those fateful 149 seconds, from Solskjaer winning the throw which led to Goal One to the same man, with that odd baby face, scoring the goal of his career.
'I can't believe it. I can't believe it,' Ferguson says. 'Football. 'Bloody hell.'
