The Thing becomes death-football of late-stage capitalism

It is hard to remember a more meandering half of elite football, the sense of time being killed pointlessly

- Barney Ronay

Well, something definitely happened there. But what exactly? There is an affectionate joke about good, punchy Australian sports writing, which basically involves saying Here's The Thing, right, then spelling out exactly what The Thing is in 800 brutally frank words, pounding The Thing into submission, shaking hands with The Thing, then, ideally, going off for a quick drink with The Thing.

What was the thing here? Trapped energy. Drift. Ennui. A good goal by Moisés Caicedo. The death-football of late-stage capitalism. Casemiro lying down a lot, often to surprisingly good defensive effect.

Manchester United and Chelsea did at least produce something recognisable in the course of this 1-1 draw, specifically a game of two halves, one of them muddled and almost surreally tedious; the other muddled and blessed with a 10-minute spell where things actually happened.

The first half in particular was an extraordinary spectacle simply for its listlessness. It started quite well. Old Trafford always has that Christmassy feeling at kick-off. Whatever the surrounding weather there is always energy in the ground for the team, and early on there was a familiar sense of will pushing down from the stands. Around here Manchester United is still a 10-storey love song.