ALMOST THERE

The Grauniad

Manchester United have a mathematical chance of throwing away the title but this does not look like a side that is about to get its sums wrong. It has been an epic battle but the question now is of when, rather than if, the glory is confirmed. The City of Manchester stadium on Saturday will do very nicely, although there would be something particularly sweet about reserving the big moment until the trip to Chelsea four days later. At the very latest the trophy should be in United's possession after West Ham's visit to Old Trafford on May 13 but Sir Alex Ferguson's victory jig suggests they may not have to wait that long.

His demeanour when the final whistle shrilled, and the news came through that Bolton had plundered a point at Stamford Bridge, was of a tipsy uncle heading for the dance floor at a wedding. This was the celebration Ferguson reserves exclusively for the special occasions: an odd hop, an uncoordinated clap of the hands, then a series of jerky twirls and running leaps, like a man with a wasp down his pants. The grand old master of English football, on the verge of his ninth championship in 14 years, forgets sometimes that he is now of OAP age but who can blame him when he is indulged with this near-unremitting excitement?

Even by United's extraordinary standards there has been something remarkable about the way they have flirted with danger and, at times on Saturday, teased us into thinking that their title challenge was on the point of collapsing like a house of cards. At two-nil down with half an hour to play, this was the moment when, to use Ferguson's own words, it was time "to show what Manchester United were all about". Four goals billowed Everton's net at the Park End and, when the comeback was complete, the arithmetic was simple: three points at Manchester City on Saturday, followed by anything other than a Chelsea victory at Arsenal on Sunday and the first piece of the Treble will be confirmed. The news for Chelsea is grim considering that City have not managed a league goal at home since New Year's Day. For City it is even grimmer.

United's goal difference is so immense they can even afford to drop five points in their remaining three games and it is here, undoubtedly, that the origins of this success story lie. When Chris Eagles, the young substitute, strode on to Wayne Rooney's pass and curled the ball beyond Everton's raw goalkeeper, Iain Turner, it was United's 82nd goal in 35 league games. That is 20 better than Chelsea and, already, a more impressive tally than in all but one of Ferguson's previous eight championships. United now have 20 different scorers and have amassed 40 goals in 20 cup ties. They have the runaway Player of the Year in Cristiano Ronaldo and eight players in the Professional Footballers' Association's representative XI. Nobody can say they do not deserve to win this league. Nobody, that is, apart from Jose Mourinho, a man whose default setting appears to be conspiracy theory.

Mourinho's apparent belief that he is being assailed from all sides by all manner of devious plots and dark scheming will not have been quelled by the tragi-comedy that attached itself to Phil Neville's own-goal and, to precipitate the comeback, Turner's butterfingers when dropping the ball in front of John O'Shea. The story was a familiar one as Rooney kicked into life, Ronaldo was brought off the bench, Paul Scholes and Ryan Giggs, below, took control in midfield and United oozed such authority it was easy to wonder how they had managed to find themselves two down in the first place.

David Moyes, the Everton manager, complained of his side's defending, and justifiably so. Tony Hibbert had to raise an apologetic arm after squandering possession in the build-up to Rooney making it 3-2 and Everton's was a very wonky offside trap when Eagles ran clear. Milan, it is safe to assume, will not be as generous when United take a 3-2 lead to San Siro for the second leg of their Champions League semi-final on Wednesday. It is a match of utter unpredictability but that is the way United, champions-elect, like it.

The Telegraph

"Careless hands broke my heart in two. You held my dreams like worthless grains of sand. Careless hands don't care when dreams slip through."

Forty years ago, the Kop sang those words to Gary Sprake after the Leeds goalkeeper had thrown the ball into his own net at Anfield. Four decades on, Iain Turner dropped a straightforward corner at the feet of John O'Shea and Jose Mourinho's dreams of a third straight Premiership title began to slip worthlessly away.

Sprake never lived down his mistake, although it had no consequences - it did not cost Leeds the title and it did not hand it to the eventual champions, Manchester City. Turner can console himself that Sprake played 500 times for Leeds, but his was a precious error.

Before it, Manchester United seemed incoherent. Had they lost, it would have been the eighth Premiership point spilled in four games. Their defence was ruined by injury. The San Siro, the City of Manchester Stadium and Stamford Bridge awaited like stations of the cross. Once O'Shea had stabbed home a loose ball just as he had done at Anfield last month in another match on Merseyside that Manchester United ought to have lost, the self-belief that makes United the most dangerous second-half team in the world flooded back in a dam-burst.

It was a day for all of the emotions that crowd around football. The sentimentality and sadness as Alan Ball's white boots were placed on Goodison's centre circle and a beautifully observed ceremony to mark the passing of a great Everton player. The game's rancid cruelty as Turner dropped his catch. The sounds of the Manchester United fans packing the Bullens Road Stand shouting "champions" as Sir Alex Ferguson conducted his television interview in the spring sunshine.

Everton's supporters filed out past the statue of Dixie Dean wrapped in tributes to the little man and through a Stanley Park ablaze with blossom feeling they had not done justice to Ball, save only that the result mirrored his greatest game. Four-two.

The Times

The two outstretched fingers on each hand were not intended to signify V for victory, but as Sir Alex Ferguson gestured to his players that Chelsea were being held to a 2-2 draw by Bolton Wanderers and then followed up with a theatrical "cut" gesture to indicate full time at Stamford Bridge, they might as well have done.

This, after 90 minutes during which the Barclays Premiership title pendulum had swung one way and then decisively the other, was the moment that Ferguson knew that Manchester United's dream was close to being realised. His players have enjoyed some fervent celebrations after smash-and-grab victories at Craven Cottage and at Anfield in the past eight weeks, but this time, as they sang "We want our trophy back" in the dressing-room, there was also the knowledge that they were almost there.

Only the most one-eyed Chelsea devotee could deny that United deserve to have "their trophy" back. Not only have they played the best football this season, scoring 82 goals (20 more than Chelsea) in 35 league matches and a further 40 in cup competitions, they have also shown the character that is required by any team with title ambitions. Falling behind against Fulham, Blackburn Rovers and, on this occasion, Everton, their response has been that of true champions — and never more so than on Saturday, when, after 50 minutes, trailing to Alan Stubbs's deflected free kick and a spectacular strike by Manuel Fernandes, they seemed to be down and out.

It required a sizeable slice of luck to get United back into the match. They were handed a lifeline on the hour by the failure of Iain Turner, the young Everton reserve goalkeeper, to catch Ryan Giggs's corner, but from the moment John O'Shea converted the loose ball, prompting Ferguson to send on a half-fit Cristiano Ronaldo, their victory seemed inevitable.

Within 17 minutes, with Everton engulfed by a red tide, Phil Neville, of all people, had prodded an attempted clearance in his own net and Wayne Rooney, their outstanding player on the day, had scored to turn a 2-0 deficit into a 3-2 lead, one that was extended in the final seconds by Chris Eagles, a 21-year-old who would have been nowhere near the squad but for injuries to numerous senior players.

Neville suggested that United had been "jammy" because of the fortuitous nature of at least two of their goals, but he added that they "will be worthy champions. The best team always wins the league."