I like the cut of this Amorin fellas gib. Although if United fans just wanted to see a manger bang long balls up to a makeshift striker they shoulda kept Moyesie
There was a lad from Askeaton S&C coach for Bodo academy last two years. Heās gone from there now I think but Iām claiming victory
I think heās actually started getting himself fit and going to the gym etc and itās put years on him. A salutary tale
I donāt think Iāve ever seen a team go two down in extra time and score three goals to win. Have we a precedent?
Grok canāt find an example in the history of the game. Can cheasty or aertel out do musks creation??
West Germany won on penalties after going 3-1 down to France in 1982.
Donāt know if that answers your question.
Give me an example of a team who scored twice to lead by two goals in extra time in football and then conceded three goals.
One notable example of a team scoring twice in extra time to lead by two goals but then conceding three to lose is Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich in the 1998-99 UEFA Champions League quarter-final second leg.
Match Details:
- First Leg: Bayern Munich 1ā1 Manchester United
- Second Leg (April 14, 1999): Manchester United 2ā1 Bayern Munich (3ā2 on aggregate)
Extra Time Drama:
- Bayern Munich scored twice in extra time (goals by Mehmet Scholl and Carsten Jancker) to lead 2ā0 (3ā1 on aggregate).
- However, Manchester United staged a stunning comeback:
- Ole Gunnar SolskjƦr and Teddy Sheringham scored in the 91st and 93rd minutes, respectively, to make it 2ā2 (3ā3 on aggregate).
- United won on away goals, but this example fits the scenario where Bayern led by two in extra time before conceding twice (though not three).
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No Iām looking for the same scenario as happened tonight. A team conceding two goals in extra time and subsequently scoring three goals to win the match. Theres a possibility it might never have happened before in the history of the sport.
Did grok just spoof that one? 
Deepseek.
AI is a simpleton.
Iād be fairly sure it has.
Grok is a legend. Heās scrabbled around for an answer but has come up short so far.
Grok is a crock.
The metrolink back into Picadilly Gardens was like something from Sodom and Gomorrah - incredible scenes, they nearly turned the cunt over.
What are spuds going to do if Ange wins it? They will have to keep him
Thereās precedent. General Burkinshaw last game at the helm was the 1984 UEFA Cup final win over Anderlecht. It was a proper tournament back then and the General was a proper manager.
Big Ange will be no moved on in the summer. Winning a diddy Cup wonāt save him.
Does the Europa league winners still get in to champs lge? I thought they changed that this season
ChatPintCurtis is the job here.
Extol the virtues of Man Unitedās thrilling Europa League comeback versus Lyon in the inimitable style of the doyen of Irish sports journalism Roy Curtis. Simultaneously deride Liverpool & the stale banter of their Irish fan base:
Ah, the theatre of dreams flickered into a riot of resurrection last night as Manchester United, that most romantic of flawed titans, clawed their way from the grave against Lyon with the sort of thunderous defiance that wouldāve had Matt Busby ghost-whistling in the rafters. It was vintage, rhapsodic United ā all blood and thunder and a pulsing belief that refuses to die even when the clock mocks and the odds laugh.
The comeback ā stitched together by raw nerve, crimson-shirted courage, and the sort of gut-churning drama that makes the Europa League feel like opera for the mad ā was not just a win. It was a sermon in heart. This wasnāt just football; it was poetry written in studs and sweat, the sort of thing that turns doubters into believers and believers into pilgrims. In an age of sterile systems and expected goals, United bared their teeth and showed the old soul still rages inside Old Trafford.
And what of Liverpool? That smug, self-regarding travelling circus ā a side whose fans have turned banter into a sort of warmed-over stew, endlessly reheated in WhatsApp groups across Lucan and Longford. Their brand of wit is as stale as last weekās toast in a Bootle B&B, a constant echo of Istanbul, as if history alone could shield them from the here and now. Anfieldās choir, once a force of passion and pride, now sounds like a gaggle of lads who watched one too many āBeing: Liverpoolā episodes and decided a scarf and a scouse accent were all it took to join the clergy of Klopp.
Let them scoff. Let them fire their tired memes and reheated gags from their motherās kitchens. United, for all their chaos and creaks, live in nights like this ā nights when the blood runs hot, when the script gets torn to shreds, when history feels like itās being written with a clenched fist and a beat-up ball.
Roy Keane once said that United never lose ā they simply run out of time. Last night, they bought enough of it to summon ghosts, summon greatness. And in doing so, they reminded us ā and their Merseyside mockers ā that for all the noise, all the Netflix documentaries and Instagram histories, there is still only one club that can turn agony into art with a single, furious breath.
Man United arenāt back. They were never gone.
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Ange promised a trophy. He will deliver
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