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THE CROW By CATHERINE ETOE & RICHARD OSLEY
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Taggart has finally lost it – not just Championship form
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 SIR
Taggart has finally lost it.
The Moan United boss Alex Ferguson this week tipped Tottenham Hotspur
to be amongst the challengers for the Premiership title next season.
The printer is clearly off-line at Old Trafford. Even the most blindly
optimistic Spurs fan will tell you that’s about as likely as
seeing Martin Jol knighted for services to Champions League football.
 Sure,
I’d never thought I’d see Chelsea win the league –
but Tottenham, with rubbish Michael Brown and rubbish Reto Ziegler
and rubbish Robbie Keane, taking the top prize is beyond all rational
thinking.
Fergie, looking ruddier than ever before, thought he would show
how magnanimous in defeat he was by sending his team out to clap
Chelsea onto the pitch on Tuesday night.
It was a shame, then, that none of the so-called United fans stuck
around to clap the United players off the pitch as they cheekily
attempted an end-of-season lap of honour afterwards.
Yes, there were last trains to Surbiton, Woking and Hertford to
catch, but how embarrassing was it for United’s plainly odious
players to tour an empty stadium?
How many of those deserters who left early will be Chelsea fans
next season? Rio, included.
 WASN’T
it lovely to see Old Trafford applaud the Chelski players on Tuesday?
I must admit though, I half expected Roy Keane and his bridesmaids
to stick a foot out as the Moneybags ambled through Man Utd’s
guard of honour.
Because let’s face it, good sportsmanship wasn’t exactly
top of the list of priorities at the Theatre of Cheating Keepers
when London’s most promising team visited earlier in the
season.
Yes, I’m bleating about the goal that never was and the points
that should have been ours.
 It’s
the first time mind. But when you’ve just missed out on the
chance to see your team play the likes of Omonia and Sloga Jugomagnat
next season, you’d have a bit of a whinge too.
I had hoped that those stolen points might eventually deprive
Arsenal of automatic qualification to the competition they now
say is as much use as a chocolate teapot (until the day they manage
to get anywhere in it).
But Roy ‘Lucky 13’ Carroll and Co did us no favours
there either. Now our only hope rests with the giant comedy doo-doo,
sorry, I mean sausage, Jermain Defoe snuggled up to at the Riverside
on Saturday. Because if Boro turn in the kind of stinker the diddy
man and his cohorts turned in after his comedy wrestling act on
Saturday, Dinamo Tirana here we come.
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