Goals, without a doubt, are the purpose of it all.
On Saturday, it took a truly extraordinary goal from Wayne Rooney to win the 157th Manchester derby for United against City.
And it took a wonderfully constructed, exquisitely finished goal by David Silva to prevent from losing at Sporting Gijón.
United’s 2-1 victory could quite easily be the pivotal result of its attempt to hold onto the English title. The 1-1 draw in Gijón ended Barça’s unprecedented run of 16 successive league victories, but is unlikely to harm its prospects or damage its morale.
But, unashamedly, we should narrow this down to those precious moments when goal scorers did what most people only ever do in their dreams.
First, Mr. Rooney.
By his own admission, the highest paid player in English soccer was not having a memorable derby on Saturday. Indeed, he has not been at the top of his form for a whole year, and at the time when City and United drew the first Manchester derby of the season, 0-0, last November, Rooney was at a sports clinic in the United States.
His agent had just held ransom during contract negotiations. Rooney himself was out of condition, and he uttered the terrible statement that he considered himself superior to the rest of the players on United’s payroll.
He won the salary squabble, but lost respect, lost the sense of awe in which even children looked up to him.
One goal will not regain all of that. But, my, how we envy his ability to perform it.
The game on Saturday was moving toward its last 10 minutes. The score was even, and City had the momentum.
Then, it happened. Nani, the scorer of a fine first goal and the most accomplished United player on the field, crossed the ball from the right, but it took a deflection off a defender.
That deflection, in a way, made for the greatness of Rooney’s goal. He was positioned between two City players, but already airborne in anticipation of the cross. In midair, in a split second, he somehow contorted his bulky, bull-like body.
He had his back to the goal, and he was almost horizontal to the ground, three feet — a meter — or so above it. His legs were splayed, his left arm down to break the fall, his eyes watching the ball onto his right foot.
Or close to the foot. The ball actually made contact with the shin, but all the rest was near enough perfect. The timing, the direction, and the force with which he propelled that ball over his shoulder into the top corner of the net was, as Rooney himself was to say, the goal of his lifetime — thus far.
Rooney appeared afterwards to be unaware of any deviation in the path of the cross. He praised Nani’s perfect delivery. “I saw the ball coming from Nani and thought, ‘Why not try it?”’ he said.
Why not, indeed. Instinct, agility, acrobatics — unforgettable motion, and a game winner.
Alex Ferguson, United’s veteran coach, was still in thrall of that goal an hour later. Sir Alex, once a striker himself, has managed United through 1,370 games. He has seen his team score 2,499 goals and swears none at Old Trafford was as spectacular as this one.
Reminiscent, someone suggested, of Denis Law? “Yes — exactly, you’ve got something there,” Ferguson responded. “But whether Denis ever put them in with such ferocity, I’m not so sure.” In bars, cafes and living rooms, there will be comparisons made.
There can, though, be no argument that goals win games. On Saturday, City had left its new striker, Edin Dzeko, on the bench for an hour. United, trying to match up to City’s packed midfield, did the same with its leading scorer, Dimitar Berbatov.
City, more practiced and more comfortable with the plan, controlled more of the game. However, David Silva, its clever Spaniard, missed a chance from three meters before United broke the length of Old Trafford.
The goalie Edwin van der Sar launched a kick over the halfway line. Rooney and Julian Lescott jumped for it and missed, and the ball fell to Ryan Giggs.
His instant pass freed up Nani, whose first touch was pure and whose finish with the other foot was a model of composure.
City equalized when Dzeko’s shot hit the back of Silva, the deflection this time wrong-footing everybody.
Then, as City’s master defender, Vincent Kompany, was to lament, what can anyone do about genius? “I came into the dressing room with a smile on my face,” Kompany said, “because for 90 minutes, I gave him nothing. Then he does that!” A lasting impression was Yaya Touré of City embracing Rooney at the end.
It was the embrace of sportsmanship, the gesture that said if you are going to beat me, make it memorable.
Less demonstrably, David Villa returned as a Barcelona forward to Sporting Gijón, the club that made him. The son of a local miner, Villa became Spain’s leading scorer.
The labor was long and hard on Saturday after Sporting struck first at El Molinón. Its goal was opportunist when David Barral took advantage of defensive uncertainty between Gerard Piqué and Gabriel Milito.
Sporting’s organized resistance to Barcelona’s incessant waves of attack held out until the final 10 minutes. Then won the ball, foxed three opponents and passed. Villa looked up, saw the goalie rushing toward him, and chipped delicately, precisely over him.
No celebration from Villa. Why would a man milk the moment he bites the hand of those who taught him? “We gave our lives for this draw,” said Sporting’s coach, Manuel Preciado.
“Although it seems to me that against the best team in the world it should be worth more than a point.” The best team in the world, the best goal in a lifetime. Quite some Saturday.