SOMETHING in the air around the Etihad stadium yesterday told you it wasn’t going to be as straightforward as the bookies believed.

This was Manchester City, ‘typical’ Manchester City and a routine win for Roberto Mancini’s men was never going to be on the cards.

On Ashton New Road before kick off opportunist vendors were trying to shift ‘Champions 2011/12′ t-shirts and flags – there were no takers.

Despite the presence of thousands, soaking up the partial sunshine, City Square was subdued. Old habits die hard.

Not that Cult guitarist Billy Duffy was towing the line – telling the crowds the only problem the Blues would have was figuring out how to deal with success.

Inside a carnival-like atmosphere greeted the players onto the pitch, seeming to defy the tension.

But the early goal the Etihad craved never came and nervous frustration soon descended as chances came and went.

Even the opener, when it arrived, was met with a split-second of uncertainty. As Pablo Zabaleta’s shot hit Paddy Kenny and looped into the air it appeared to hit a post. An eerie silence followed before the ball rolled into the net.

Bedlam. Strangers embraced, children were lifted into the air and next to me one lad who looked as though he had been on the pop since daybreak fell across two rows of seats.

But still doubt persisted. At half-time the talk was of how City would deal with the absence of the injured talisman Yaya Toure rather than of plans for the night out to end nights out.

And we didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Within the time it takes for a Joey Barton meltdown and two blinks of an eye the visitors were 2-1 up.

Disaster. News filtered through that United were 1-0 up at Sunderland. Badly Drawn Boy Damon Gough headed for the exit clutching a pack of Marlboro Lights. All of a sudden it was ‘typical’ City again.

Behind me it was too much for one lad. “******* useless,” he screamed. “Ten men and we still can’t beat them.” Those around me resisted urge to remind him of those away trips to York and Macclesfield.

As time ticked away some headed for the exits. Others stared at the floor. Many could not believe what they were seeing.

Even Edin Dzeko’s equaliser was greeted with watered-down cheers. There was a glimmer of hope but it was as faint as the pulse of City’s title hopes.

And then the winner. The glorious, unthinkable winner. And the noise.  The noise of forty-four years of hurt blown away thanks to Sergio Aguero’s cool finish.

“It’s like Gillingham on acid,” one lad told me when things calmed down.

Seconds later, after more twists than a useless Pontoon player, the referee obliged. Thousands raced joyously onto the pitch, some diving head first into the goals.

A gang of lads appeared next to me who had clearly managed to sneak in. One had lost a trainer, presumably in a turnstile.

Finally the masses disappeared from the pitch and the trophy was held aloft.

History made in the space of five, mind-numbing minutes.

On the way out one lad summed it up perfectly. “You know what, dad?” he said. “That was typical City. The new typical City.”

The GMR post match phone in.

Remember that? When you’d hear the words ‘clueless’ and ’shambles’ 14 times in five minutes. When Gary, from Longsight, sounded as though he was about to jump in front of a car on Stockport Road. When 90 boring minutes at Boundary Park seemed like an all-expenses paid weekend in Las Vegas when you switched on the radio in the car on the way home and listened to what the Blue hordes had just endured in Moss Side.

I didn’t tune in on Sunday but I have no doubt that they were inundated with joyous callers heaping praise on the Sheikh, Roberto Mancini and all involved with the Etihad revolution. Marvelling at the warrior-like performance of Yaya Toure. Pontificating about the Italian gaffer’s tactical masterstroke. Incredulous at another ‘you cannot beat me’ performance from the brick wall that is Joe Hart.

It’s not even called GMR anymore.

The derby was a strange sort of game. From the moment the teams were announced an hour before kick-off everything happened as expected. It was almost a non-derby.

Sure, there was a shade more tension early on but that was almost inevitable given the hype before the game.

As soon as that passed the match played out in such a predictable way. The form book was totally NOT torn up/thrown out of the window/turned upside down. It was opened and followed word for word, stat for stat.

United went into their Euro defence mode, packing the midfield and challenging the opposition to find a way through. That can work if you have Rio Ferdinand and Nemanja Vidic at centre-back.

But with the inexperienced Chris Smalling and Phil Jones and the inconsistent Patrice Evra in there, that defensive wall’s shallow foundations were there to be exposed. Likewise ageing duo Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes are great with the ball, not so great without.

The United line-up, universally hammered on our message boards, seemed a tacit admission that the Reds are not good enough to go toe-to-toe with City on the Blues’ home ground. It’s the tactic that has failed to work against Barcelona in recent Champions League games, and City are not Barcelona, not yet.

The game quickly fell into the pattern of City controlling possession and United limited to counter-attacks. City’s main danger came from themselves and the occasional over-commitment leaving space in behind.

That United conceded from a corner will be doubly frustrating for Sir Alex Ferguson. If you get unpicked by dazzling interplay from the likes of Samir Nasri, David Silva and Sergio Aguero then fine, sometimes you hold your hands up.

But from a corner plonked on top of centre-back Vincent Kompany’s head? A non-league side could have stopped that. And more pertinently, Vidic probably would have done too.

But for all the criticism of United’s team selection, I don’t think it was the defining factor in terms of the result.

Time and again this season, when faced by higher quality opposition, United have been found wanting.

It happened in the first derby, it happened in the Champions League and it happened in the Europa League.

Much has been made of their extra experience in title races but that was another non-factor in Monday’s derby.

The likes of Yaya Toure, Silva, Aguero and Carlos Tevez – these are not players that freeze on a big occasion. I actually thought Gareth Barry, Joleon Lescott and Nasri were the best performers on the night.

As the match went into injury time there was no hint of a late United sting as there would have been in years gone by.

The strange thing is, United could well still end up winning the title if City slip up.

But I get the sense even if the Reds do grind out number 20, even their fans will find the victory a touch hollow.

Spoke to Marc Stein yesterday who, aside from being ESPN’s NBA correspondent, is also a lifelong City fan (it’s a long story about a childhood trip to Israel and a copy of Shoot magazine featuring a Blues team photo).

His employers are broadcasting the match in the US and he believes there is more interest in tonight’s battle of Beswick across the Atlantic than there has been for any other Premier League game.

“In all my years supporting City there’s never been a match that more friends and colleagues have asked me about,” he said.

“Other basketball writers who have never paid any attention to football (note football, not soccer) before seem genuinely curious to know where I’m watching it and how nervous I am.

“ESPN have been running regular commercials all week to promote the derby and I would say that the mainstream American sports public has never been more aware of a Premier League match.”

Marc, who is currently working on the NBA playoffs, will be watching the match in a hotel room in San Antonio.

“I’ll be trying as hard as I can to enjoy the moment,” he said. “I’ve been telling myself for days that there’s no reason to agonise over it, because you couldn’t have even dreamed about City having this kind of opportunity after the Arsenal match. But rational thought obviously draws out of your brain quickly as kickoff draws near.”

WHEN a group of young, die-hard City fans booked a coach for the wrong date to take them to the recent away clash at Norwich they were left in danger of missing the match altogether.

The problem was that Roberto Mancini and co’s jaunt down to Alan Partridgeland coincided with the all-Merseyside FA Cup semi final at Wembley and that hardly any firms had vehicles left.

Those that did had so because they did not fancy ferrying a gang of emotional football fans on a 400-mile all-dayer.

A quick ring around confirmed our heroes’ fears and they were left with the prospect of watching the match in the pub after having bought tickets.

However, never underestimate the ingenuity of the football fan spurned.

One of the group, determined not to miss out (and presumably a fan of early-90s movies starring John Candy), came up with a novel way around their predicament.

He decided that the group would become a bobsleigh team for the day – and the Cool Runnings Manchester Branch was born.

Sure enough a coach firm (in Preston and presumably unfamiliar with the East Anglian climate) agreed to take the lads and disaster was averted.

But the story doesn’t end there.

One of the group, who shall remain anonymous, told me that some of those involved got into the spirit of things and ended up attracting a new member.

“We made a flag and some of the lads turned up in lycra,” he said. “We stayed out in town the night before and went straight to the coach at 4am. While we were out we met a girl in Yates’s who asked why some of us were dressed like we were. She thought it was hilarious and ended up coming with us. I think she sobered up just as we got into Norwich and wondered what she had got herself into.”

All is reported to have ended well - City won 6-1, the driver is said to have found the whole thing hilarious and the girl got home safely.

The lads will now, no doubt, be hoping their heroes don’t crash before the finish line.

In sporting terms, there is so much riding on the Manchester derby that it is almost one for fans to be fearful of, rather than to relish.

Either side could cope with their title hopes being scuppered by any old Premier League team (though United fans would make Liverpool exempt from that category).

But by their derby rivals? That is going to hurt. For a long time.

Paddypower.com make City 5/4 favourites on the night with United 9/4 but still have United 4/9 for the title as opposed to City’s 7/4

Unlike the incredible 6-1 game of last year, I reckon Monday will be a tight, nervy affair.

Although United would never set out for a draw, they know that will probably be enough to land them the title. And there is bound to be a reaction to the 4-4 game against Everton.

I could well imagine Sir Alex Ferguson going five in midfield, putting Park or Phil Jones in there and leaving Rooney up top on his own.

City are playing better thanks to Tevez and Aguero but Silva is still nowhere near his best – and until he is then I’ve a feeling City will have a tough time getting through.

A key battle is bound to be Valencia/Clichy… United’s play can be predictable in that whenever Scholes and Rooney get the ball their first thought seems to be switching it out to the Ecuadorian. Andy why not, when his simple and direct style is so destructive.

If I was a betting man, I’d say draw but my heart says City might sneak it at home. How’s that for fence sitting?

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I attended The Open Championship golf media day on Monday at Royal Lytham & St Annes. After the press conference, in which doubt was cast over the BBC’s long term chances of screeing the tournament and it was revealed mobile phones will be allowed for the first time since 2006, we played a round on the famous old links. How was it? Well, as the old saying goes, a picture tells a thousand words so:

The winner in July will need to plot his way around 200 of these bad boys. Strategy is the watch word.

It was good to see Bubba Watson prevail at the Masters on Sunday, if only because his was a victory for the unorthodox.

The big Floridian defeated Louis Oosthuizen at the second play-off hole before his teary, shoulder-juddering celebrations – the press immediately dubbing him ‘Blubber’ Watson!

Oosthuizen – who has used a home in Altrincham as a base – and Watson are at different ends of the golfing spectrum in many ways. Watson is the heart-on-his-sleeve, never-had-a-lesson lefty who clatters the ball a country mile with the driver and around corners with his irons.

“I can hit it straight, it’s just it’s easier to see curves,” he says.

Oosthuizen is the compact South African, as unflappable as your average dodo, hidden behind mirrored glasses, splitting fairways and holing putts with barely a flicker of emotion.

Kudos must go to Oosthuizen for his incredible albatross*, which would not have rolled in more smoothly had he stroked it in with the putter from two feet.

But generally speaking, Oosthuizen’s golf game is vanilla compared with Bubba’s cookies and cream.

And Bubba’s victory is the reason we love sport.

If slow and steady always won the race – where would the fun be?

It was fitting that Bubba effectively won the tournament with a shot that probably only he could have hit – a 40 yard hook from the pine straw.

If Bubba had been coached for the last 20 odd years he probably wouldn’t have been able to execute that shot. The swing kinks that allow him to shape the ball so much would have been ironed out long ago.

Bubba is by no means alone in his unorthodox swing – Jim Furyk’s was described by David Feherty as an octopus falling out of a tree, while Jon Daly’s huge overswing would have coaches cringing. Yet both have won Major championships.

And it’s not just golf where fans are delighted by the unusual.

US sprint great Michael Johnson had an unorthodox – although by no means accidental – style and was unbeatable for a long while.

And cricket has a long list of technical curiosities, the likes of Chiv Chanderpaul who bats basically facing square on to the bowler but who averages a shade under 50.

Sports psychologist Dr Bob Rotella wrote a famous book called ‘Golf Is Not A Game Of Perfect’ – well that goes for the whole of sport too and each game is richer for it.

*Continuing the bird theme, if Oosthuizen’s two at the par 5 second was an albatross, Phil Mickelson’s six at the par-three fourth was a dodo for his Masters chances.

I’m a bit late with the old Masters prediction this year given the tournament has already started – but here’s my twopenneth nonetheless…

My original tip was to be Hunter Mahan, but I believe him winning last week lessens his chances.

There’s a lot of talk about Justin Rose but I’ve got my doubts about him over the four rounds. Ideally, he would not start too quickly, but fly nicely under the radar until Saturday evening, Sunday afternoon before being in there where it counts.

Front running can be a killer in golf (unless your name’s Tiger) as McIlroy found out to his cost at Augusta last year. And Charl Schwartzel’s late run to win the 2011 event shows what can happen if you’re in the mix late on.

I expect all the usual suspects to be there or there abouts – Woods, Mickelson, McIlroy, Donald and Westwood. The course sets up so well for Woods and Mickelson because they can get away with the odd errant drive and they know the track backwards. It all comes down to putting form and funnily enough I think Woods might do best of the favourites despite his recent unpredictable form.

My random pick is Bill Haas – he’s really improving as a player and offers great value at 90/1 (last time I checked).

:: I entered the ballot for Masters tickets this year after they were surprisingly opened to the public. But in arguably the least shocking outcome ever I didn’t get one. I dread to think how many people entered. I’ve probably got more chance of qualifying as a player (playing off 18 and rising).

:: I watched some of the Barca vs AC Milan match in midweek and thought for a moment that the Rossoneri had a chance. They certainly carved Barca open with surprising ease for their goal and you can always be disgruntled in giving two pens away. Once Andres Iniesta had scored it was over though and he held his run against the offside flag superbly. He is SO the man for big goals… vs Chelsea in 2009, World Cup final 2010… he’s had his fair share alright.

THE probe into the alleged racist abuse of two City stars at a Europa League clash has stalled – because both clubs are no longer in the competition.

Blues players Yaya Touré and Mario Balotelli claimed they were subjected to monkey chants from Porto supporters at February’s match at the Estádio do Dragão.

Shocked City officials complained to Uefa following the first leg of the televised last-32 tie.

They launched an investigation into the allegations which was expected to conclude last week.

But both clubs are still to be notified of their verdict and when I contacted Uefa a spokesman issued a response which may raise a few eyebrows.

“This is not urgent,” he said. “Because both clubs are no longer in the competition.”

Apparently the organisation prioritises alleged incidents involving clubs that remain involved in competitions that they run.

The Blues bowed out of the Europa League on the away goals ruling following a 3-3 aggregate draw with another Portugese outfit, Sporting Lisbon.

City officials declined to comment when I approached them but a source said they were the issue ‘will be resolved at the earliest opportunity’.

The delay might strike some as puzzling given the ongoing issue of racism within the sport and especially against a backdrop of seemingly overwhelming evidence.

Balotelli was subjected to abuse, audible on TV, when he was replaced by Sergio Aguero in the 77th minute.

Touré appeared to prompt a similar reaction when he disputed a referee’s decision.

In his post-match interview he even spoke out about the issue.

“Maybe in foreign countries they don’t expect black players,” he said. “I think in future it will be OK, they will change their minds and the game will become more open. Football is football and the fans come to enjoy the game, and we don’t want things like this to happen.”

After the return leg, at which City cruised to a 4-0 win, a Porto official claimed they were preparing to make an official complaint to Uefa because Blues fans had chanted: “You’re not incredible,” at visiting striker Hulk.

But Uefa told me earlier this month that they had not received such a complaint.

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UNPRECEDENTED scenes of emotion at Boundary Park last night as Oldham fans greeted a never-seen-before piece of skill with thunderous cheers and a standing ovation.

Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with Paul Dickov’s players who once again huffed and puffed their way to another soul-destroying defeat at the hands of lowly opposition.

The one bright spark was provided by 19-year-old Latics fan Ashley Kershaw, and it came during the half-time festivities.

Regular visitors to the blog (bless you) will have seen a previous entry poking fun at the downright useless attempt of one supporter to hit the Chaddy End crossbar from the halfway line.

Sadly, his effort was not alone. The ‘crossbar challenge’ was introduced a couple of years ago but scrapped following dozens of failed attempts which led one wag to wonder if the prize on offer, a season ticket, was causing fans to miss on purpose.

Earlier this season, presumably down to an eternal optimist at the club (it’s a prerequisite to work there), it was resurrected but the results had been similar.

Not last night.

Wearing what looked like fancy plimsolls Sunday Leaguer Mr Kershaw, from Shaw, stepped up and took his chance. Nobody held their breath -- they’d seen his sort before. But unlike the usual toe-bunged attempts that tend to dribble along the floor for 20 yards, the ball sailed into the air and around the dilapidated (not-so) Grand Old Lady of Chadderton the faithful 4,000 slowly put down their pies and Bovril.

A sense that something magical was about to happen gripped the unseasonably mild night air and a hush settled over the three stands as the ball began its descent.

And then, with a plain smack against the woodwork, it was done. The ground erupted as though Roger Palmer had just ghosted in at the near post. Grown men hugged and children high-fived. Some questioned what they had seen. Had it really happened? “Chaddy End, did that hit the bar or the post?” asked Broady, the half-time announcer.

“The baaaarrrr,” came back the roar from the delighted famous old kop.

Fortunately, one of the chosen few (sat in the main stand on his own because his mate had fired the match off for a swanky wine tasting evening) had taken a video of this momentous occasion which can be seen here and confirms that history WAS made:

Rumours that Mr Kerhsaw was last seen running up Sheepfoot Lane chased by a club official waving his prize can now be dispelled by World of Sport.

I spoke to the ‘lucky winner’ and there’ll be a piece in the paper this week.

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