Goal of the Season!

As he raced to the corner flag, the cares of the world seemed to slide from his shoulders. He threw back his arms and closed his eyes while the demented din cascaded down the slope of Old Trafford.

When Wayne Rooney is an old man, he will remember this moment.

Already, the reel is running through millions of minds.

It is the 78th minute and the ball is being played back and forth across the face of the Manchester City goal.

Nani, on the right, floats a cross which is marginally deflected, and we become aware that Rooney is backing off his marker, giving himself the room to do something wonderful.

It is the kind of thing that the great ones ask themselves: 'Why not?' Later, he will tell us that he thought 'Why not?' when the ball was in flight.

At every stage he knew precisely what he was doing.

He took off, contorted in the air and watched the ball on to his right foot.

It was a preposterously athletic manoeuvre for such a thick, heavy body, but he knew what he needed to do.

The contact was explosive, the direction impeccable, the result devastating. It was a goal fit to win a derby, to secure a title, perhaps even to salvage a drifting career.

Many years ago, George Best performed one of his own miracles at Old Trafford.

A writer in the Press box asked: 'Did anyone get the time of that goal?'

An older, wiser colleague set him straight. 'Never mind the time, son,' he said. 'Just remember the date.'