Lady luck is a terrible mistress at the best of times. She has happily deserted teams at crucial junctures, added potential millions to Nikita Jelavic, Papiss Cisse, Demba Ba’s and Grant Holt’s Maxim

Mammoth. Somehow, the proportions of a Manchester United (Red Devils) and Liverpool match always assume gargantuan, slightly hairy, quite smelly, toothy, stompy, bellowy and oddly coloured proportions.

It’s hard to describe Indian football at present.

Ranging from frightfully mediocre against tougher opponents to supremely insouciant in dispatching the few teams that are ranked below them accordin