After having proclaimed, in the afterglow of the West Ham victory, how wonderful it was to be watching the lads again, this one was rather less deserving of celebration.

On a day best forgotten, we proved once again that early kickoffs and white socks just don't agree with us. Those fans who had set off at outlandishly early times endured a thin 90 minutes in the archaic dump that is the away end. 

But they were the lucky ones, with many others herded into the uncovered temporary stand to be greeted with a typical Manchester downpour.

To focus on the shortcomings of our own side totally would be to devalue the achievement of the home side in beating us. Equally though, to praise the likes of Howey, Distin and Huckerby for collecting a win bonus sticks in the throat rather. 

We're weren't playing bloody Brazil.

As we'd seen previously when our side were pitted against another one fashioned by a former England boss, some meddling in the tactics department was deemed necessary. Last time it was to stem the perceived threat of Poyet and the genius that is Glenn Hoddle, this time Huckerby and Berkovic presumably.

An odd move from Bobby to be honest - one can take the attitude that the City players in question posed a dangerous threat, but surely virtually every team we come up against boasts someone of similar stature?

The appearance of the 3-5-2 lineup caused some shaking of heads in the away section, and as a gap down the United left large enough to extend the M60 motorway continued to appear, the concern appeared justified.

Despite being praised to the skies by one newspaper for his performance against West Ham, Bernard was again distinctly ordinary and when faced by two onrushing City players, was pulled back and forth like an accordian.

The imbalance in the side also saw Solano forced to play a deeper role until the late introduction of Viana and as a result our crossing was virtually non-existent. However when the Peruvian failed not once but twice to keep his corner kick from drifting straight into touch, it was clear that nowt was going right today.

Of course had Dyer managed even one goal from his four clear opportunities then much casual talk of tactics and formations would have been eradicated.

With Robert missing and Hughes also pegged back, Shearer was an isolated figure for great swathes of the game. Maybe the rain was in his eyes, but there was little in the way of creativity from LuaLua and the problems that Howey and Distin had to cope with were largely self-inflicted.

If one thing summed up our day it was a consistent failure to pressurise the ageing and seemingly ailing Schmeichel. In his unmemorable stint at Villa Park he looked to be responsible for more than his fair share of goals conceded, and despite the post-match bluster about him from Keegan still looks a signing more to do with vanity than usefulness.

Coming back well ahead of schedule from injury, he looked less than commanding in the opening moments and when a kicked clearance left him grimacing, the omens looked good for some more involuntary assistance of the type that handed us a goal at Villa Park last season.

Aside from the spilled save from Lua that presented Dyer with a golden chance to knock the ball in an empty net, and an acrobatic stop from the same player in the second half he was barely tested though.

Reality bites then, with a capital R and Kevin Keegan was the one left smiling this time. However in our own curmudgeonly way we can't help thinking that United handed their former manager the initiative before a ball was kicked. That we then proceeded to play like drains merely exacerbated the situation.

To revert to our favourite topic football-speak and lore for a moment, of course we have a golden chance to "put things right" quickly with a game on Wednesday. However, at the time of writing it's unclear who has taken on the Warren Barton spokesman role for this season. You know the one, "let the fans down"..etc.etc. soundbite that appears on teletext with depressing predictability. Gary Speed we reckon....

Assuming no hiccups against the Sarajevans though, the prospect of a trip to Anfield afterwards almost overshadows our European adventures, at least in a pure footballing sense.

Which Newcastle will we see on Merseyside I wonder? A repeat of the staggeringly inept and seemingly uncommitted performance we put on last season would make our big team big talk a bit hollow. There again, would a Keeganesque all-guns-blazing magnificent failure be any more worthwhile?

Sir Bobby is probably right when he says we've got the most talented collection of players at the club in living memory, but as was proved at Maine Road, the overall product can still be depressingly mundane.

The manager has rightly been feted for what he's done to the black and whites, but on this occasion it was brickbats rather than bouquets being aimed in the direction of the dugout.