All about me the Red Weed clambered among the ruins, writhing to get above me in the dim. Night, the Mother of Fear and Mystery, was coming upon me.
Not only were Jupp Heynckes' team pacey in attack but they were relentless in their pursuit of the ball once they had lost it, and as the game wore on they merely increased their dominance as City wilted in the Allianz Arena.
Fading in on the screech of a magnificently over-wrought electric guitar, the drums arrive like a splatter-gun, the riff chewed up and spat out without ceremony over six-and-a- half minutes of angry hell.
Soon he was corkscrewed into place, suspended from the ceiling in an impossible maze of unforgiving circuitry.
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