This season was, undoubtedly, a momentous one. The arrival of Robin Van Persie, a 20th league title and Sir Alex Ferguson’s departure ensured we won’t forget the 2012-13 season easily – if we will forget it at all, that is. As far as European football is concerned, though, the campaign just concluded will always be etched in the history books as the year Germany sent shockwaves through the continent (if you’ll excuse the rather sinister political pun).

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In the wake of Sir Alex Ferguson’s decision to stand down as Manchester United manager, among the flurry of tributes that poured in for Sir Alex, Paul Gascoigne admitted his regret at not signing for the club.

“He always says one of his greatest regrets was not signing me, but I think it was the other way round, me not signing for the guy,” said Gazza, “I know I would have had a lot more trophies in my cabinet if I went with him, it was a massive missed opportunity.”

WE’RE GIVING AWAY A COPY OF WAYNE ROONEY: MY DECADE IN THE PREMIER LEAGUE.

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The morning after the night before the feeling of elation, sheer joy, pride and a grin extending to both corners of the mouth balance the – undoubtedly – heavy heads with whom we have gone to work, school or university today, following a night spent on that adrenaline mixture that boasts alcohol and United as its main ingredients.

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It was July 28, 2010, the setting, Reliant Stadium in Houston Texas. The final fixture in the annual Manchester United North American pre-season tour, which saw the Red Devils take on M-L-S All-Star team. This was a match where he made his debut.

Coming on as a second-half substitute to the cheers and support from his country’s people, it didn’t take him long to make an impact. Missing his first chance at goal off a beautifully crossed ball from Tom Cleverley. He would not let the next opportunity pass him by.

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To paraphrase Henry B. Adams, it might be impossible to underrate human intelligence, but it’s definitely possible to underrate footballing intelligence, particularly the one that Michael Carrick has abundantly shown since joining Manchester United.

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Leading up to the start of the English Premiere League season, no one was happier than I was knowing a team I have loved and followed – Manchester United – for a large portion of my life, had made great changes to ensure its fans that they would once again haul the much coveted Premier League trophy.

After losing it, devastatingly to rivals Manchester City on the last day to goal differential, there was much work to be done by management to ensure the trophy was once against brought back to its rightful place.

With the addition of the much sought after summer transfer target Robin van Persie, whose decision to leave Arsenal for greater pastures, brought great joy to fans and team supporters worldwide – not to mention the acquisition of 2012 Asian Player of the year, Shinji Kagawa, the creative attacking midfielder who led Borussia Dortmund to a second straight German league title.

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If we were to conduct a survey among United fans asking how many still maintain an interest in the Champions League season, I suspect that the majority of the votes would drift towards “not me” or “I watch it but I don’t care”. Considering the circumstances that saw United bow out of Europe, harbouring a little resentment towards the competition might even be justified, but it would be incredibly short-sighted.

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If you’re an individual whose feelings for football are about as abundant as Liverpool’s league titles since 1989, chances are that you’ll find March a rather pleasant month. Longer days, warm(ish) weather and Easter chocolate are all good reasons to be cheerful as the spring slowly, yet ever so steadily, replaces the winter with the same regularity with whom ‘Arry oversees clubs plunging into financial meltdown.

Personally, I have never liked March. All this talking of the title being within touching distance (I refuse to use words that would describe the title as if it had already been added to our trophy cabinet) and the insistency of pairing the words “done” and “dusted” is cringeworthy, considering we still have nine (NINE!) league games to go through.

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A week ago Rio Ferdinand walked on the Old Trafford turf, with his Treble dream still intact and very much alive. Fast forward seven days and it looks like he might have to settle for just one trophy.

The title is far from sealed, particularly when one considers last season’s ordeal, and United still have a good chance of securing a spot in the FA Cup semifinal against the “noisy neighbours”, but regardless of the outcome of the remaining ten weeks of the season, this year has definitely been a positive one for Rio.

Ferdinand’s exclusion from the England squad that traveled to Ukraine and Poland in the summer seemed justified when the 34-year-old fell victim of recurrent injury problems at the beginning of the season, when many pondered if this would be Rio’s swan song in a United shirt.

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I don’t quite know where to begin if I’m honest. Do I start with the second half performance? Valencia’s inability to take on an opponent? I guess I’ll just start from the beginning because that’s where the only joy came out of being at Old Trafford yesterday. I promise I’ll leave out my journey home where my satnav decided to take me on a scenic route, that’ll just aggravate me more.

It started well, two goals in the opening ten minutes. Michael Carrick playing what I believe to be the ‘assist of the season’ if there ever was one, allowing Javier Hernandez to loop the ball over Cech’s head and in to the corner. Then came a moment many a United fan would’ve wanted to see: A Wayne Rooney goal.

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What a furore, what a circus, what a week.

When the news arrived that Wayne Rooney was on the bench for Tuesday’s match against one of the World’s biggest clubs I have to admit it made me laugh.

Only two weeks previous I’d posted a piece about Sir Alex settling a score with Rooney over his shennanigans back in 2010. The post was met with disbelief and tangible support for a man whose work ethic, goals and apparent remorse has won back the Old Trafford faithful, or at least those who frequent RedRants anyway.

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Up until 7.45pm on Tuesday night, in keeping with a lazy habit that wants everything to be boiled down to one individual, Manchester United – Real Madrid had been billed as the “Ronaldo homecoming”. As the teamsheets were announced, the game became a sort of unofficial “Ryan Giggs day”, before ultimately, and rather depressingly if you are a Red, turning into Cuneyt Cakir’s night.

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Cast your minds back as far as they will go, cast them back further again, try to take it to a time when United had a great midfield that everyone was happy with.

Sarcasm of course, it wasn’t actually that long ago but over the past few years you’d be excused for thinking it was as the clamour for United to strengthen the central midfield berths has grown to a point where literally no one seemingly believes United has the ability to compete with any of the European big-boys if or when the time were to come. Well, that time has come, and we’re at half time with all to play for and a one-man-midfield-show fresh in the memory from a player some dare to liken to Captain Marvel….and it wasn’t Ronaldo.

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Even the most intense of love stories, those that can reach unexpectedly mesmerising heights and very few low, romances of such force to leave both partners enriched and scarred at the same time, can come to an end. Quite often a very bitter end it is too. Football is no different from other environments and has seen various love-stories crumbling to dust.

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