Robson's competitors seek and find a point

IT HAS taken 120 years of effort but at long last Middlesbrough FC have finally won a competition of truly global significance. According to Boro's excellent Fly Me to The Moon fanzine Bryan Robson is now the proud holder of the "World Hide And Seek Champion" title for his pursuit of an errant Brazilian midfielder called Emerson.

Unfortunately for Rob son and for all Middlesbrough supporters, though, the trophy was not on display on Saturday, not on the pitch anyway. Wherever Emerson was he was keeping a low profile and thus we are still no nearer the truth as to just how happy/unhappy he really is. The latest report - Emerson allegedly stormed out of a restaurant showdown with Rob son - suggests that not even Cleveland's finest prawn cocktail appeases this Latin temperament.

Which is all very sad indeed for Middlesbrough because, although he was suspended for this match the rest of the team did enough to show that they could be a top 10 side if Emerson sticks around and they are possibly better than that. Emerson's replacement, Alan Moore, played well and nearly won the game with two minutes remaining when he sold David May a king sized dummy and brought the best save of the afternoon from Manchester United's goalkeeper Peter Schmeichel but for all Moore's fleet footedness a dash of Emerson's muscular thrust would have been more effective.

It would surely have given Boro the edge in a compelling midfield tussle. It could be argued, though not by Alex Ferguson, that Middlesbrough had that edge regardless, and to the extent that it even had a name - Juninho. Five feet five and nine stone 10 are sufficient statistics for some people to say that Juninho will never prosper in English football but that argument ignores the fact that the Brazilian is doing just that.

Here, just as he had at Newcastle and Derby, Juninho roved neatly in the large spaces between the partnerships of Nicky Butt and Roy Keane in the Manchester midfield, and Ronny Johnsen and May at the back, continually exploiting those gaps to Boro's advantage. As early as the seventh minute Juninho should have found the net himself but miscontrolled Curtis Fleming's lob when one on one with Schmeichel.

Juninho then spanked a drive narrowly wide of the Dane's post and in the 27th minute set up Fabrizio Ravanelli for Boro's first equaliser. That was the only Juninho pass to result in a goal, but there were plenty of other worthwhile darts and flicks and had Ravanelli shown more composure, at least one other goal would have originated with the Brazilian. However, put through by Juninho as half time approached, Ravanelli thought he was offside and rushed his finish.

The Italian had previously missed a great chance from Hignett's clever ball but redeemed himself somewhat by putting a rather unconvincing right foot shot under the charging Schmeichel. As moments before the travelling Mancunian had directed a chant of "he wants to play for United" at Ravanelli, this was a good answer.

But if the champions' back door occasionally flapped in the wind Keane and David Beckham were doing their utmost to make it an irrelevance. Keane rounded off Beckham's volleyed cross with a partial header to give United the lead and it was from Beckham's free kick that May did so again after the break.

In between Keane placed a seemingly perfect shot the wrong side of Gary Walsh's woodwork while Eric Cantona and Johnsen almost scored as well. They could have had five, though so could Boro, and it was fair that the home side plucked a point, albeit in confusing circumstances.

John O'Kane, one of the three United youngsters to impress, obstructed Cox and referee Alan Wilkie awarded an indirect free kick in the area. This, as Ferguson said after, was an incorrect decision - an indirect free kick in the box should be taken from the part of the 18 yard line nearest to where the offence was committed. When the kick was taken the ball struck Scholes on the hand, Wilkie gave a penalty - which was the correct decision - and Craig Hignett scored with style to climax 90 minutes that even Emerson's missus would have enjoyed.