Ruud Gullit savoured a few days reflective escapism in Amsterdam in the build-up to Saturday's FA Cup final. It was a city, he explained, which allowed him to wallow in himself, a feat, you sense, in which he excels.

"Brad Pitt and Madonna have houses here," Ruud elaborated, leaving us with no doubt as to which level of the celebrity stratosphere he circulates in. "I feel like a human being. If you are not famous, you cannot understand what I am saying."

He wasn't wrong. Both ITV and Sky opted for a full three hours of preview coverage, Sky accentuating their devotion with an official countdown clock. For ITV, the yawning span of air-time was easily eaten up by the laborious prattling of the likes of Terry Venables.

Still, the sight of Andy Gray and Frank McLintock perched gravely over what appeared to be a Subbuteo board seemed to be an ill-advised departure and, as is the inevitable with the footie finger game, they had either lost or broken all the miniature players.

Hence, both Manchester United and Newcastle United were represented by outlandishly large tiddly wink counters, which Andy laid out in standard four-four-two formation. Frank, coaching the Tyneside team, adopted a similar strategy and, with the same sense of weighty forethought as probably inspired generals Lee and Grant, they predicted how events would transpire in the heat of battle.

Much of their deliberations were focused on the pattern Cole and Solskjaer might favour up front, with all sorts of peeling and weaving manoeuvres conjured up. Even in the form of a tiddly wink, Newcastle defender Laurent Charvet looked distinctly cumbersome when matched up against Andy Cole.

Over on ITV they profiled player after player and then did the same again. "In the dictionary where it says professional footballer, they should have a picture of Alan Shearer," declared Big Ron. His co-commentator, Clive Tyldsley had, unsurprisingly, absolutely no reply to that.

Bertie Ahern and Tony Blair were interviewed in what appeared to be the tunnel and the British Prime Minister was happy to illuminate the priority both leaders attached to the game.

"We sort out Northern Ireland, " he began (as though the sports interviewer might have been hitherto unaware of this) so when we talk football, we do it gently."

There were live pictures as both teams waited in the tunnel, pacing and saying little, the nerves apparent in all faces. The tension was even manifest in the commentary. Clive Tyldsely went off on a tangent about the value of FA Cup tickets to the Newcastle fans, likening them to "little slips of goldleaf."

"They wouldn't swap them for a winning lottery ticket," he exclaimed, qualifying their sense of loyalty with, "well, depending on how many numbers came up."

Picking up the slack, Big Ron observed that in the tunnel, "the wall of noise can be quite quiet." You wondered which word in the dictionary might be paired with a mugshot of Ron.

One of the most ashen-looking citizens of the day was Steve Harper, the goalkeeper who ousted Shay Given from the first choice spot and who had spent last year's Cup final on the terraces. Eight minutes in and he must have wished he was back up there as Teddy Sheringham slid the ball past him in a scything one-two which seemed to rob Newcastle of their belief for the rest of the match.

"Not the best of starts, that, for Harper. Ball was just slotted through his legs," was the sage observation of Big Ron.

That goal (which came about after Sheringham came on to replace the unfortunate Roy Keane) initiated an afternoon of sheer woe for Newcastle fans and utter boredom for all neutrals (soon to be a minority; a Sky stat revealed that 20 per cent of the English population consider themselves to be United fans). Disdainfully, they threatened to put the game beyond Gullit's hapless force with every second attack before Paul Scholes eventually did. Big Ron lapsed into his traditional bout of overstatement.

"I don't think that fella ever misses," he marvelled. Again, nothing from Clive.

It was a thankless afternoon for the fast-fading legend that was Alan Shearer. He cut a remote, frustrated figure, moving Sky's Martin Tyler to pity him. "Still, he hasn't done to bad for the son of a Tyneside sheet metal worker," he said.

Before the whistle even went, all concerned seemed glad that this Cup final preamble was all but dispensed with so they turn to more juicy talk of Barcelona and the much feted treble. Afterwards and even the Man U celebrations seemed half hearted, as though the sheer inevitability of the result had stolen their enthusiasm.

"Well, we are here until six o'clock," advertised Sky's Richard Keyes, a tad too wearily. Still, there was much airy talk about United (Man) been the best in history (as if it were really up for public debate) and more eulogising of Fergie. The afternoon was a success in that the big shiny red show goes on and the TV bucks keep rolling in.

For Newcastle, the future was less serene. Richard Keyes' lame talk of encouragement was harshly put to bed by Frank McLintock, who had obviously had enough of both Wembley and subbuteo. "Was that encouragement? I thought they were poor. They'll finish up in the lower half of the table next year, Ruud Gullit will leave the club and they'll have to rebuild."

Sounds like a bleak scenario. Still, if the pain becomes too much, the fans can always just follow the real United.