MARCELTIPOOL.COM

Yes, you have read correctly.  I am a Liverpool fan and I want Manchester United to win the Premier League title.

It's only right and proper that I explain what I mean.  I'm not defecting, I'm not pledging an allegiance to Manchester United in another context.  I'm merely stating that given the predicament that we find ourselves in, where the title can only be won by one of the two Manchester clubs, I would prefer the title to stay exactly where it is.

I hate Manchester United.  I hate their players, I hate their fans in general, I hate their manager.  Sralex is one of the most arrogant, conniving, opportunistic and antagonistic people football has ever seen.  Take him out of a Manchester United tie, take him to a racecourse and by many accounts he becomes mild-mannered, humble and philosophical, even when talking about football, but his professional persona is absolutely loathsome.

Liverpool play Norwich today. I hope Liverpool win. Much, much more, whatever the result, I hope we don't boo our players, our manager or, for those who believe it to be that vague, our club.

Liverpool will be going to Wembley thrice in 2012. Kenny Dalglish, the supposed failure in the mainstream press for admittedly poor league form, is one game away from a two trophy season, but still it seems Anfield attendees are buying into the opinions and agendas of the newspapers - a collective we have always been at odds with. It's a worrying development.

Speaking of "failures", for two games running Andy Carroll delivered victory with a late header, the most recent over Merseyside rivals Everton in the FA Cup semi-final played at Wembley.  That particular win was inordinately welcome, firstly because it is always enjoyable to reach a cup final - The Cup Final, and secondly because we got one over the bitter Toffees, again, though both of these reasons pale into insignificance compared with the third reason: we have the opportunity to beat Chelsea - now quite possibly to instigate a role reversing parallel of our fortunes in 2005 when a loss in a domestic final preceded our Champions League triumph.

Originally published on DesignFootball.com

Dave Woods paused for effect immediately after delivering the dramatic news. With Channel 5 having hit the jackpot with their serendipitous adoption of Athletic Bilbao's Uefa Cup campaign - and reclaiming the formerly mocking "Thursday Nights on Channel 5" chant with all stigma banished - the commentator now had the opportunity to consolidate this success with a surefire winner. News had come through that Atletico Madrid were through to the Final and should Bilbao get past Sporting Lisbon to meet them then they would be nominally the away team and, wait for it, be required to wear their green away shirt.

When a football shirt has even got the commentators onboard you can say with some confidence that the design's hit the spot. In the case of Athletic Bilbao, the shirt benefits from being coupled with a successful side playing football regarded in a similar bracket to Barcelona and Swansea City and with a ruthless attacking flair akin to that displayed by Tottenham Hotspur in the first half of the season.

Originally published on DesignFootball.com

The geniuses at Nike have done it again. If you are not aware, they were responsible for the recent debacle of releasing a pair of trainers for St Patrick's Day, which were described in the clumsiest of Guinness-referencing adjectives, and named, I kid you not, after the moniker given to the horrendously vicious British paramilitary unit which tortured and murdered Irish people in the early 1920s, the Black and Tans.

The only explanation for this PR disaster must be that a little word association popped into the mind of a marketeer and a quick Google of "Ireland black tans" gave enough - unchecked - results to apparently vindicate the now full-steam-ahead development of this project. Despite the obvious offence caused, the notion of this campaign being discussed in passing at an office water cooler in Portland, Oregon, leading any employee with a modicum of knowledge of Irish history to feel the blood drain from their face, offers a comical subtext to the farce.