TV VIEW:We don't care what continent they're from as long as we get the perfect semi-final, writes MARY HANNIGAN

“IT’S A full English,” beamed Richard Keys as he introduced us to Sky Sports’ coverage of Manchester United and Arsenal’s Champions League rendezvous last night. In truth, we rarely think of a plate laden with rashers, fried bread, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, sausages and black pudding when we watch Cesc Fabregas, Carlos Tevez, Emmanuel Adebayor and Cristiano Ronaldo do their thing, but, like Claudio Ranieri, we’re probably being a bit churlish.

“There may be three English teams in the Champions League semi-finals, but there are hardly any English players in them,” the Juventus supremo had said in a warm tribute to the European domination of the Premier League.

He, of course, was nitpicking. Out of the 22 players who started the game only 17 weren’t English, and out of the 14 substitutes only 12 were ‘foreign’. So . . . well, fair enough: it was more like a continental breakfast, with a South American and African twist.

But we are all Champions Leaguers now, so flags, passports and breakfasts should matter not a jot. We had been promised “the perfect semi-final” by Ferguson, one that knew no borders, so that’s what we settled down to witness.

The line-ups? For those of us who have a soft spot for chronically moody, a bit mercurial, somewhat work-shy, slightly volatile, occasionally dazzling but largely nowhere-to-be-seen when the going-gets-tough, the news was grim: Dimitar Berbatov was benched.

“He’s been a waste of space, Bill,” said Eamon Dunphy, a nodding Ronnie Whelan in full agreement. “Tevez runs about,” he said, pointing to what he saw as Dimitar’s replacement’s greatest asset. Johnny Giles just purred, the little man from Argentina his footballing answer to Raquel Welch. Just lovely.

“You fancied Arsenal in the Herald,” said Bill. “I did,” said Gilesie, who now fancied United in the Champions League. “I’ve had a change of heart after seeing that team, it’s United’s strongest.”

Back on Sky Glenn Hoddle was telling Richard that “the natural game of Arsenal is to out-possession the other team”.

Back at RTÉ, Bill was telling Gilesie that Wenger reckoned this was going to be Arsenal’s year. “But he said that last year, Bill – there’s an old saying in football about managers: all their geese are swans.” There was silence for a moment, before Bill punctured it with a “right”.

And what of Patrice Evra? The greatest left-back on the planet?

“No, he looks legless,” said Gilesie, Dunphy wondering “if he’d got a virus or fallen in love”. “Maybe he was in Mexico recently, Bill,” Gilesie oinked.

Prediction time. RTÉ and Sky were in full agreement: United-ish or possibly Arsenal-ish, depending on which defence performed worse-ish.

Match time. The camera picked out a disconsolate, dejected, dispirited, despondent and downhearted Dimitar on the bench. So, no change in his mood then.

All United, apart from Arsenal’s seven or eight counter-attacks. Goal. John O’Shea. Or as Darragh Maloney so beautifully put it: “John O’Sheeeeeeeeeeaaaaa”.

Half-time. “Arsenal have been tippy-tappy, Richard,” said Graeme, an accusation, incidentally, that he chucked at Croatia last summer. Ruud Gullit didn’t understand what this meant – tippy-tappy in Holland is probably a clog dance – but he agreed with Graeme that Arsenal had failed to out-possession United.

Back on RTÉ Giles was awful close to bursting into song, along the lines of ‘don’t cry for me Carlos Tevez, the truth is I always loved you’. “I’d pay £50 million for him the way he’s playing tonight, Bill,” he said. “Would you,” asked Bill. “I would, yeah,” he sighed.

United flying, then? “Yeah,” said Dunphy, “except Ronaldo’s not bothering his arse.” Bill pressed the ad-break button, faster than you could say pronto.

Second half. United humbled Arsenal, apart from not actually scoring again, the only slight flaw in an otherwise swashbucklingly consummate performance.

“They deteriorated in the second half, Bill,” said Gilesie, who couldn’t for the life of him understand why Carlos had been replaced by Dimitar.

Love, of course, can sometimes be blindness, as can a £30 million transfer fee that a manager really has to justify spending. But the mercurial one will come good, perhaps at Highbury. Which, based on how his season has gone so far, is probably where he’ll turn up for the second leg. The rest of us will be at the Emirates for the second course of rashers, fried bread, eggs and the rest. It should be tasty.