Salford City Reds 10 Les Catalans Dragons 0

Some days are just so perfect they should be preserved in the memory forever. While this day won't be remembered for breathtaking sporting entertainment it will be remembered (by me anyway) as the day that Salford finally got their first win of the season AND United took a huge step towards winning back the title with a famous win at Anfield. Happy days!

I was up unfeasibly early for a Saturday, an admin cock-up at work had meant that I had to go to my branch of my bank to get my hands on my hard-earned pittance. Only problem being, my branch is in Leeds! After sorting out my cash & dashing back to civilisation, I got a taxi down to the Height to join everyone in the Dog for the early kick-off from Anfield. I walked in the Dog to find row after row of unfamiliar faces, a quick phone call solved the mystery "We're in the Welly" thanks for telling me lads!

Optimism was very low around the table, the feeling was we'd be more than happy with a draw. Bobby however was his usual up-beat self and was confident that Vidic would do the job for us, so much so that he'd staked 2 whole pounds of his hard-earned on the no-nonsense Serb opening the scoring. Nic & Janice turned up just before kick-off & we started to frantically look for a corner with no view of a telly to stick Janice in (she's a notorious jinx when it comes to Utd games).

The game was frenetic stuff as you'd expect from a Scouse v Utd game where the stakes are so high. To be fair Liverpool had most of it but Ronaldo always offered us a dangerous outlet. The 2nd half was real backs to the wall stuff though, the freak looked to have made the breakthrough but Van Der Sar made an amazing save & the draw was still on. It might have got better when Saha tricked his way through & was clearly brought down but a penalty? At Anfield? At the Kop end? No chance! Things got steadily worse for United; Rooney limping off, Scholesey lashing out at Scallygher (sadly not connecting) and earning a red card, John O'Shea coming on as a sub, oh dear.

As the clock ticks into the first of 4 long minutes of stoppage time that we have to hold on for, Giggs wins us a free-kick on the left. That'll waste a bit of time! Ronaldo's delivery is a beauty, low & hard, and Saha dives in but doesn't connect. However, it's enough to fool Reina who fails to collect & the rebound drops to a white shirt on the edge of the 6-yard box who sidefoots it into the roof of the Kop net. Absolute bedlam ensues.

As the bodies pile on top of me, as I hug the 10th random bloke in as many seconds, I start to realise what has just happened; John O'Shea, of all people, has written his name in United history. The man who scored the goal that will surely bring back the title is one of the players whose blinding mediocrity is the reason the trophy has spent so much time in the capital recently. The irony is fucking superb!

With the euphoria of the Utd victory fast subsiding, we turned our thoughts towards this evening's game. A win is vital & if we don't get it here then it would be a crisis point. Most of us seem confident of nicking it & a taxi is booked to take us to Weaste & a few beers in the church hall. As we make our way onto the Shed the heavens start to open. This cannot be a good sign for a fast-flowing open game (which given that we're on Sky it would be nice to serve up) & sadly I'm right. To make it worse for the viewing public, kids get in free tonight (a good move by the club if I may say so) & are given an annoying horn on their way into the ground (a shocking move by the club if I may say so). For 80 minutes a pathetic, annoying whine is the backdrop to a shocking game of RL. What an embarrassment.

The performance didn't really matter, getting the confidence boosting W was all that counted. We certainly made the perfect start with a sweeping right to left move creating the space for Luke Dorn to go over on the 6th tackle play. Johnny Wilshere added a superb conversion & all was well with the world (except for those bloody horns). If anything though, the play became even scrappier after the try. Robbo put a nice kick in for Daley Williams to chase but the Video Ref correctly ruled out the score.

The 2nd half unfortunately continued in much the same vein. We had most of the pressure & to be fair never really looked like losing, when Les Cats did pressurise us, our line defence was much, much better than in recent weeks. As the game went into the final 10 minutes, an Alker scoot found a big gap in the visitors line and the skipper touched down for the clinching score. In the dying seconds, the french failed to deal with a hopeful punt into the corner & john Wilshere appeared to have added a bit of gloss to the scoreline only to see the VR controversially chalk it off. Difficult one this one, I can see why he disallowed it but if you look at every try close enough & in super-super slo-mo, you'll eventually find something wrong with most of them.

The feeling in the Tavern afterwards was mainly one of relief at the victory, together with annoyance about those bloody horns. Of course it was a perfect opportunity to wind the Parkin clan up about earlier events at Anfield & that was too good an opportunity to miss out on. The lads were all scooting off to the Height & I was just about to join them when Nic called to say she was on her way to meet me with the girls. Shit! As it was we had a relatively uneventful night ti the Tav while I'm told I missed a classic night on the Height. Oh well, I suppose you can't have everything eh!

Wakefield Trinity Wildcats 36 Salford City Reds 24

And then there are some days which are just so mind-numbingly awful you just wish for the invention of a memory eraser so that you don't waste one more minute of your life dwelling over such a mind-numbingly futile day.

Optimism was definitely high after the previous week's comeback in the capital & as we arrived at Victoria station for the train to Leeds, the concourse was impressively full of reds ready for an earlyish arrival in Yorkshire. A laughter-filled journey to Leeds ensued with the highlight most definitely being Deano's attempts to make us believe he really does look like Tom Cruise. As we landed in my former home city we noticed we had a 30 minute wait for the next train to Wakey, only 1 thing for it then; pint. GT ordered some ridiculously strong ale which when I asked for it the barman enquired "Does he know how strong it is?". "Yeah", I replied, "I'm only letting him have four though. He's gotta drive us home after". The barman met me with a look of utter disgust before I assured him he was joking & made a mental note to myself to remember just how humourless Wetherspoons' bar staff can be.

As we made our way to the platform we spotted a familiar face clad in a crombie & a fedora. It was Stevo, Sky Sports analyst/tool for Super League coverage. I dashed across to request a photo & Stevo duly obliged before spending 10 minutes talking to us about the game, Luke Dorn, Steve Ganson (a wanker said Stevo, we agree said we) and his fellow commentary team. He then bade us farewell before heading back to London (having asked where we drink after home games & saying he'd have a few beers with us next week). Top bloke. So we headed through the barrier & made our way to the Wakey train only to be asked by some Loiner "Was that Stevo?", "Yeah", "Which game's he off to then?" "He's not, he's going home" "Australia?"!!!! This had us conjuring up an imagined platform announcement for the 13:10 to Sydney calling at Heckmondwike, Cleckheaton, Knottingley, Bangkok & Melbourne.

We landed in Wakey & headed to the first pub (I can never remember the name of it) & stopped there for a while bringing out Stevoism's everywhere "Someone's got to get the message out, this lager is warm" or "That boy Danny Holmes he is a BIG unit". Soon enough I had to head back to the station to meet Paul & we were soon heading more central to settle an argument; a gang of us reckoned that the Snooty Fox on the way to Belle Vue was the roughest pub in the world while Solly & Walshy reckoned it was some place they ended up in last season. The only way to settle it was by visiting both & I had to say that the youngsters had it spot-on. Time to head to the ground.

Wakey had the better of the early part of the game and their territorial advantage was pressed home by 2 Rooney penalties. However, Salford started to look more threatening after those early warnings & it was no great surprise when Finnigan crashed over from close-range & Wilshere tagged on the extras. We then had a lot of control in the game but tellingly fell away afterwards to allow Atkins & McGillivray to give Wakey a commanding half-time lead of 16-6.

Anyone for more 2nd-half heroics? No, we were even more woeful in the 2nd stanza (another Stevoism). The worst of the 3 Hendersons was allowed to score as was the very impressive Tevita Latu with a token effort by young Luke Adamson sandwiched in between these measures of Wakefield's superiority. A fight-back which never appeared on was briefly hinted at when Haggy went on a barn-storming break & stayed in support to touch-down by the sticks. Then Daley Williams squeezed over wide-out & we were back within 6 points. However, fittingly Rooney had the last say as he completed a deserved Wakey victory.

There's only 1 way to react to a performance like that; beer. We headed over the road to Monty's & found a quiet corner to mull over how piss-poor we were. I don't really want to dwell on the events that followed but people who think that half pool-cues are a good accompaniment to a game of rugby league are just scum. The quiet pint ended up with me outside a pub surrounded by Wakey "fans" looking for an excuse to kick shit out of me while thinking that my blind mate was still inside wearing his Salford shirt & anything could be happening to him. Not a pleasant feeling at all, thankfully Ian & Martin had got Paul out of a fire exit and all was well. Unfortunately not all Salford fans in the pub could say the same.

We all met up again in the next pub down the road, Tony's face looked a lot better once it had been cleaned up & we felt it was only right to go on with the rest of the night. The usual suspects headed off to a karaoke pub near the station to serenade the locals. Bobby gave a virtuoso performance on Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me (assisted by myself after those immortal lines "Ladies & Gentlemen, Mr Yorkie Red") which earned a standing ovation and of course Matchstalk Men & Cats & Dogs was given a good airing.

Then we did the usual routine; Reflex & Flares before heading on the last train to Leeds & back to the Wetherspoons where initially the barstaff claimed I was barred!!! After pointing out that errrr, no I wasn't and mass consultation between barstaff, I was eventually served. We arrived back on the platform for the train to Piccadilly to find that Paul had had his collar felt for having a piss on the platform & that cheered us all up no end. And still the fun & games were not over; as we made our way back over the pennines, some weird gay guy from Leeds started talking to us. After a while, he started to take an unhealthy interest in young Martin (to the point of following him to the toilet). Now Martin is only young and really didn't know how to handle the situation really so another fight looked a short-priced favourite for a while but we slowly calmed Martin down & explained to the guy that there was nowt down for him. However, when we got to Manchester & he was still following us I had to go & have a word. Freak!

All in all, a lot of laughs & predominantly a very good day but the events between 3:30 & 5:30'ish would be best banished from our memories I reckon.