I disappointed myself on Wednesday night. I backed the wrong team. But I wasn't the only one.

"The roar in here was as big as anything in the World Cup," said the landlord of my lunchtime Darlington pub. And the World Cup included England putting three past Denmark and a heroic victory against the arch-enemy Argentina.

It was the 91st minute of a of a European Champions league qualifier, and normally - in fact on every other occasion - I'd be rooting for the British team, be they English, Scottish, Welsh or Irish, against the nasty foreign opposition.

But then Bela Koplarovic scored for Zalaegarszegi (and you don't get any more foreign than a team called Zalaegarszegi) to go one ahead against Manchester United. And I cheered.

It wasn't just a half-hearted little cheer. It was an up-off-the-sofa moment, both hands above the head, and a defiant "ye-e-e-s".

Rather shame-faced, I quickly sat down. I knew that I was cheering against many of the players I cheered for so loudly when they played for England.

Over the years, Manchester United's continued success has made them the victims of an unpleasant, spiteful jealousy. But even though their manager Sir Alex Ferguson has on occasions spouted a lot of arrogant tosh, the non-partisan football fan was able to forgive much of it simply because United played beautiful football. And because Leeds were always more hateful with their players more at home in the witness box than the six yard box.

Now, though, nothing can forgive Manchester United captain Roy Keane's admission that he set out to take premeditated revenge on a Manchester City player. Nothing can forgive Ferguson's statement that there was nothing "whatsoever" wrong with Keane's actions.

If Keane gets away with an assault which would warrant a prison sentence if perpetrated by a member of the public who is not protected by Manchester United and the football authorities, the beautiful game will be totally in disrepute.

THE story of the week concerns the death of Steady Ed Headrick, the man who put such a new spin on the Frisbee that his ashes are to be moulded into a limited edition of the flying disc.

The Frisbee began in 1871 in Bridgeport, Connecticut, when William Frisbie opened a bakery called the Frisbie Pie Company. He delivered his pies to universities in tin dishes, and soon students were throwing the empties to one another shouting "frisbie".

On the other side of America, Fred Morrison invented a plastic flying saucer which the Wham-O company, manufacturer of the hula-hoop, bought from him in 1955. Initially, Wham-O called its disc the Pluto Platter but in 1959, having heard of the Connecticut legend but not knowing how to spell it, changed the name to Frisbee.

More than 200 million Frisbees have since been sold, with at least 199.9 million of them having being chewed to pieces by dogs on beaches.

It is to be hoped that the limited edition Frisbees containing Mr Headrick's ashes don't share the same fate