United We . . . Rise?

49 seconds in to the recorded match, Newcastle United versus Manchester United, and I'm worried I've blundered. I'm drinking Anchor Steam instead of Newcastle Brown Ale. Has my thoughtless choice of beer condemned the Toon already????

If so, I should be ashamed.

Andy Carroll for Newcastle has really long hair. He must get follicular advice from Jonas Gutierrez. I didn't picture Andy Carroll with long hair.

There is something about the pristine nature of a soccer pitch that is soothing, the striped pattern of how the grass is cut, thick, alternating bands of light and dark, the white chalk or paint of the lines sharp against the green.

Newcastle is playing Manchester away at Old Trafford, so this is a big match, but it won't be considered a disaster to lose. A loss would be expected, if not the ideal start to the campaign.

I love watching the back and forth flow of soccer, the ball being knocked around, triangle passes leading to the long raking balls down the wings. Manchester look dangerous and nearly break down Newcastle's defense a couple of times here in the first ten minutes.

Andy Carroll so nearly heads it in to the net from a corner, but puts it wide! So close!

Paul Scholes draws a foul from Alan Smith in a dangerous spot by accelerating like the Scholes of old, not the old Scholes of recent vintage. Maybe Smith wasn't expecting that pace. I would be enjoying the skills of United more if it weren't against Newcastle, which is the downside of having a favorite team playing in the game.

I just hope Newcastle doesn't stay bunkered back all game, though that seems a likely strategy in the circumstances.

But there is some nice passing, and Andy Carroll fires in a good solid shot from 25 yards out, forcing a good save from Van Der Sar. I like it. I would have liked it more if it had gone in, of course.

Wayne Rooney's first shot, with a little bit of space, is jerked tamely wide. A bit of an anti-climax, much like his World Cup.

A deserved free kick in the 23rd minute for United, as James Perch picks up Newcastle's second card, but the free kick smacks harmlessly into the wall. There have been a few signs of nerves at the back for Newcastle, as sometimes they have made some mistakes in their own third of the field.

Too many giveaways, and Manchester gets the first goal in the 34th minute from Dimitar Berbatov. Always on the cards. Newcastle has allowed them too much space and too much possession, and made too many mistakes on defense.

Now the game will have to open up, which should be entertaining.

Andy Carroll is tall, but he doesn't seem all that fast, so a counter-attack may not be Newcastle's best weapon.

Gutierrez has shown some speed down the flanks. Newcastle has had a couple chances, but often a careless touch or stumble has let them down. Maybe some nerves is undermining their poise here at Old Trafford in front of goal.

2-0 Manchester United. Sigh. An easy goal to Darren Fletcher.

This could get ugly.

Newcastle lacks the quality of Manchester United. It hurts to admit it, much like it hurts to admit that San Francisco Giants are not as good a team as San Diego this year.

It's very odd, the question of rooting for Newcastle United. I have no connection to the city. The closest I've been was traveling past Newcastle on a train from London en route to Edinburgh. The only reason to cheer for them is because when I first started watching the occasional Premier League match, I idolized Alan Shearer, then playing for Blackburn, and so I affixed my allegiance to Newcastle when Shearer signed for his hometown team.

So there is no rational reason for me to be depressed by their performance against Manchester United in the first half. Not only do sports teams in general have no objective reflection on my worth as a human being--not even the Giants--but Newcastle has no direct connection to me, so they can't be said to represent me.

But when have sports ever been about rationality?

One thought is that I've always wanted to feel like I'm different. Playing and following soccer, instead of American football, that was a way to feel special when I was young. It certainly gave me a little bit of identity, a hint of Anglophilia. It made me think I could impress people in Wales by being an American conversant in football.

Combining that with a genuine fascination with the play of Alan Shearer, and I guess it was inevitable that I would end up like this.

Therefore, I will watch to the end, bitter as it might be, some adherence to an intangible claim of loyalty to a team and a city playing a game that happened nine hours ago, noon Pacific time. It's the sort of melancholy joy one finds in sports, a safe sense of martyrdom, perhaps, balanced on the scales with hope for something amazing.

Of course, for me, I couldn't resist checking the result at halftime, so alas, I know there will be no spark of happiness from this game. It ended 3-0 to Manchester.

It serves me right for buying Anchor Steam instead of Newcastle Brown Ale.