Please remember, class is permanent even on a bad day | OneFootball

Supporters of a certain age will remember the popular little ditty we loved to sing in the Seventies, before Gordon Lee decided in his infinite wisdom to dispense with the services of one Malcolm Macdonald.

“Supermac, Superstar, How many goals have you scored so far?”

Just in case you have recently landed from the planet Zog, let me point out two things.

First, this was not an ironic inquiry.  The answer was anything between one and five. For example: the two against Burnley in the 1974 FA Cup semi-final; an unforgettable hat-trick on his home debut against Liverpool in 1971; all five in an England hammering of Cyprus in 1975.

Second, the words fitted neatly to the title tune of Jesus Christ, Superstar, the early hit musical by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber. They would be belted out from all four corners of St James’ Park whenever Supermac troubled the scorers. At least, that’s how Rice, a massive cricket (and Sunderland…) fan, would have described another Macdonald piledriver…

Great footballers (and for all his apparent lethargy without the ball, Supermac was a great) deserve to be serenaded in song. The tune needs to be short, the words apt and catchy.

Those factors alone probably exclude my suggestion for a Sandro Tonali song, though that won’t stop me nominating I’m A Believer, penned by Neil Diamond and made famous by The Monkees in 1966.

As always, the lyrics have to be tweaked just a little. The sentiments run true, however, in praise of a maestro as good as any I’ve seen playing for United in my lifetime.

“I thought cups were only true in fairy tales, Meant for someone else but not for us, Pain was out to get me, That’s the way it seemed, Disappointment haunted all our dreams . . .

“Then I saw his pace, Now I’m a believer, There’s not a trace Of doubt in our minds. Oh Sandro! We’re all believers, you couldn’t fail us if you tried.”

If you think that’s a risible effort, thank your lucky stars you’re not old enough to have been around for the heyday of Crackerjack! “It’s Friday . . . it’s five to five . . . it’s Crackerjack!” More than 50 years ago, BBC scriptwriters would mangle the words of chart hits every week, delighting a live audience of hyperactive children.

We were warned that watching such rubbish would hinder our intellectual development. Don’t blame me, blame the formative influence of Eamonn Andrews, Leslie Crowther, Michael Aspel and the rest . . .

Back to Sandro Tonali, a midfielder par excellence. He is capable of setting the rhythm, calling the tune and turning disparate performers into an irresistible, powerful, harmonious unit.

I’m writing this only a few hours after United were given the runaround at Villa Park. It was a bad day at the office, one the bookies predicted when they made a home win the most likely outcome. When two form teams clash, there’s likely to be one winner and one loser.

Our Italian stallion was partly culpable for the first Villa goal when his attempted clearance found Tielemans in space on our right flank, about 35 yards from goal. Tonali was on the ball only because he had seen the initial danger and tracked a run by Watkins beyond our back line. A lesser midfielder would never have been there to plug the gap.

What was unusual, almost a collector’s item if you compile rare errors, was that Tonali didn’t play a simple ball, the sort of pass he makes time after time in every game after reading the play quicker than anyone else. For once, he erred in his crucial role as a defensive midfielder.

He is much more than that, as he proved after six minutes of his Premier League debut last season, volleying home United’s first goal in a 5-1 victory against…Aston Villa.

Yes, he stops rivals in their tracks, but he also turns defence into attack before our opponents are set. While his pass isn’t often the last one before United score, it is frequently an integral part of the build-up. Without his ability to find the wide attacking players, they struggle to make an impact.

His stamina is staggering, his vision superb. Having forfeited nearly a year of his career because of gambling offences, he seems driven to make up for lost time.

We have five games left in this momentous season, five games to secure a Champions League berth. The last word on yesterday’s defeat, which I believe will be our last until the 2025-26 campaign, should go to another great lyricist. Let’s call it An Italian-American Tune, with apologies to Paul Simon. This time, the lines need no amendment.