I marked my card in United crowd

To register my disappointment, I deliberately turned my card the opposite way to my neighbours, not exactly standing in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square, but the heart of rebel still beats in this ageing excuse for a body.

I couldn't put it off really, but the predictable rout at Liverpool took place. At least they sent their manager this time.

There's no point dwelling on our shortcomings after Sunday's game. Shearer will be well aware that most of the squad just aren't good enough, fast enough or fit enough. Barton is a liability; we needed cool heads, yet he gets a red card and an early summer holiday.

Even if we scrape into fourth bottom, unless major investment happens, we'll be back in the same situation next season. Not one of our players would even make the Liverpool bench.

So, we always knew that the home games against Boro and Fulham would be crucial, and at this stage, draws just aren't good enough. Let's see how many are committed to the cause, and how many are mentally clearing their lockers already.

A couple of things to finish. Firstly, a public service announcement. Next week's column will be on Wednesday, to allow thoughts on what could be our first Championship game for about 15 years. Secondly, on Saturday night I sat in a pub transfixed as a footballing masterclass unveiled before me. Barcelona destroyed Real Madrid in a display that simply took the breath away. Natural justice demands that they go on to win the Champion's League. We beat them once, you know.