Quick, not really Olivia related postscript to yesterdays entry about superstition, which should, technically be the province of my United blog if only I could muster the time and energy to keep it up. Anyway, I'm still undecided on whether the credit for today's victory should go to the pack of Revels I had before the game, or maybe the Blueberry muffin I ate in Starbucks while killing time in town. Hopefully it wasn't anything to do with the antics of the tram-replacement service bus driver who kidnapped me and wouldn't let me off his bus until Trafford Mall, (long story;even longer trek to the ground), or perhaps it was the fact that I chose to listen to 'Strageways , Here We Come' on the train journey down, which has the side-effect of making you feel more than slightly melancholic. The aligment of any of these may have triggered the mystical forces necessary to guarenteeing a win.

Alternatively it could just be down to Nani's screamer of a shot and the ref's fear of unleashing a shit-storm with Fergie at its eye by pointing to the spot. Our task, like mine in the picture, might be uphill, but just like me and Olivia conquered the odds by scaling the steepest gradient in Devon, I'm confident that United will conquer the odds of their own and scale the Premeriship mountain before too long.