IS it 2004 already? A manager seemingly on the brink, making bizarre statements and boring us to death. Defeat in France, in the cup no one wants to enter.
A lazy limp to fourth place, provided everyone else caves in. An unnerving reliance on Gerrard and an injury-prone goal machine hinting worryingly about departure. Walloping Portsmouth in early March, making it the 23rd corner turned this season.
Liverpool may be close to financial chaos, so here’s hoping we patented the time machine we’ve clearly invented. Frankly, I can think of better years to revisit.
Rafa is still the topic du jour, despite gossip about investment (believe, see etc) and some appalling performances from the players.
Sorry, did I say appalling? I meant "fantastic", Rafa’s troubling assessment of Lille. He also used the word to describe a predicted 1-0 win over the worst team in the league, which thankfully turned out better than that.
You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t do cartwheels when we finally meet a team even we’re not petrified of (one that still comfortably beat us in December by the way).
Who knows what the hell is going on? Once Carragher practically confessed he would not play second fiddle to the other centre backs in this squad – on those rare occasions they’re simultaneously fit – he was reinstated to his rightful position the next day.
Reports of our awfulness at Wigan were not exaggerated. In fact journalists seemed to take pity and downplay the mess. The shellacking our conquerors took at Bolton five days later surprised nobody.
On the road we have become excessively respectful, catastrophically negative. The manager retreats in moments of crisis and the likes of Wigan and Lille exploit that.
Some players are selected because there is simply no trust in the alternative. Insua is ripped to shreds by almost every winger he faces and Kuyt can no longer hide behind work-rate.
A goal and a decent performance against a dreadful Pompey reminded us all that Aquilani actually exists, and that Lucas isn’t contractually obliged to start every match, but one suspects the love child will return against slightly stronger opposition on Sunday.
Despite his increasing panic the manager can still pass a buck with the finesse of Souness. Before the Europa tie he complained of players criticising each other on the pitch, citing the goalkeeper as an example.
If anyone’s earned the right to moan about the incompetence around him, it’s Reina. Regarded as Rafa’s main ally in the dressing room and our best performer this season by some distance, it seemed a risky ploy.
Maybe I imagined a few negligent moments creeping into Pepe’s game last Thursday, maybe he secretly agreed to be publicly flayed for the common good. But unless you agree with Rafa’s assessment that their attitude was indeed "fantastic" in France, it seemed not to work.
Gerrard was still invisible and Torres spat out another dummy. His comments in a Spanish newspaper were further proof of an ego that could use a little deflation.
That mythical armband with YNWA on it can be flung at a moment’s notice, or so it would seem.
When we conceded that idiotic goal, it provoked not anger but apathy. Was anyone the least surprised when it went in? Now we could well win the return because at home they simply won’t be allowed to be so disinterested. 40,000 hypersensitive souls will see to that, as they did on Monday.
Once we are actually in front though, that’s the time to worry. The tendency to sit back on a lead has cost us repeatedly this season, but as against Blackburn there is little will to change matters and ten years of brainwashing has left supporters with little other than torpor in response.
I’m happy to be proved wrong, and that thumping Portsmouth wasn’t the exception but a shiny new beginning.
Except last season we began anew against Real Madrid and we were still in the title race. That’d be a good month to revisit. Starting Sunday…
a d v e r t i s e m e n t
This appeared in the printed version of the Irish Examiner Wednesday, March 17, 2010
