Liverpool: returning to a point of no return

There’s a creepy inevitability about the ensuing events: he knows what’s coming and there isn’t a thing he can do to stop them.To an eternal pessimist like me, this scenario sums up the modern Liverpool — in the league at least. I might’ve mentioned this analogy before — the deja vu is becoming repetitive. It’s weird: we keep returning to a point of no return.

Evans and Houllier both reached the stage where ‘doing well’ was no longer an option: it was accepted we’d come close, but now was the time to deliver. The inevitable pressure of such demands led to a collective freak-out that bounced us right back where we’d started — and the whole gruelling climb began once again.

Maybe Sisyphus would be a better comparison? Let’s just say there’s nothing new under the sun and we’ve been here before.

So here we are again, second favourites apparently — while United and Arsenal craftily keep schtum and let the pressure build elsewhere. I’m not sure we’ve a right to such expectations anyhow: the main opponent was formidable to begin with — add Shevchenko and surely the thought of catching even a sniff of their exhaust fumes is a futile one.

Those of you who clutch straws at Olympian level might cite Rush’s 1988 return as a precedent — a marvellous marksman added to a seemingly indomitable side, yet we lost the title to Arsenal.

Everton buying Lineker, Arsenal buying Wright, United buying Van Nistelrooy — it’s happened before, can it happen again? Er, no. Sure, I was quoted in the Arena preview last week saying Liverpool would come first, but I was surrounded by smug Chelsea fans and they got me drunk and, well, one thing led to another. It seems we can achieve 90% of what’s necessary easily and quickly — that final, elusive 10% of ‘je ne sais quoi’ never even looked like being attained.

So what are The Gafa’s chances? Inevitably, all talk of £30 million transfer kitties turned out to be hot air — the mind games and posturing back in March don’t seem to have worked. Back then, Real Madrid were coached by a nonentity tap-dancing on a trapdoor. Benitez was the obvious replacement, but many fans thought he’d be inundated with lavish funds for exciting, new exciting players when he signed a contract extension — they watched the World Cup the same way footballers’ wives glance through jewellery display cases: ‘that one, that one, that one and that one’. Poor deluded fools. Madrid now have Capello —who knows, he might even last a whole season.

So can we all breath easily now our manager won’t be leaving? The purchase of Kuyt looks dependent upon Champions League qualification, which makes last Wednesday’s result doubly frustrating. The sale is by no means a sure thing — Liverpool have become renowned for ‘the last piece in the jigsaw’, players added to decent teams who’d help us make that final step to title glory.

Who knows? Maybe it’ll be the less obvious candidates who finally deliver? It’s stretching credulity to add Pennant and Bellamy to that lengthy list — they’re decent players of course, a bit too familiar with police stations, but if United can turn a blind eye, I’m sure we can. The pair could certainly make us better to watch, which becomes more important than titles as I get older.

I often wonder if my fellow supporters have a full grasp of the facts. There’s often talk about our ‘rightful place’, but be honest: we’ve existed for 114 years and dominated our league for 15 of them. We’ve had successful eras and competitive eras, but ‘first is first, second is nowhere’ applies only to an eighth of our history. We’ll probably end this decade as England’s superior Cup team, but that still wouldn’t be enough for some. Just being compared with the other three — favourably or otherwise — will have to do, while Chelsea’s extraordinary spree continues. We can only try to improve ourselves and see where that leads. I’m not sure we’ll be able to top the 82 points from last season though — that had a slightly freakish feel to it.

The pre-season games haven’t exactly set pulses racing either — not that I pay much Liverpool: returning to a point of no return

By Steven Kelly

LIVERPOOL is like that old horror film: the guy wakes up after what he thinks is a bad dream and everything during the day resembles his nightmare. There’s a creepy inevitability about the ensuing events: he knows what’s coming and there isn’t a thing he can do to stop them.

To an eternal pessimist like me, this scenario sums up the modern Liverpool — in the league at least. I might’ve mentioned this analogy before — the deja vu is becoming repetitive. It’s weird: we keep returning to a point of no return.

Evans and Houllier both reached the stage where ‘doing well’ was no longer an option: it was accepted we’d come close, but now was the time to deliver. The inevitable pressure of such demands led to a collective freak-out that bounced us right back where we’d started — and the whole gruelling climb began once again.

Maybe Sisyphus would be a better comparison? Let’s just say there’s nothing new under the sun and we’ve been here before.

So here we are again, second favourites apparently — while United and Arsenal craftily keep schtum and let the pressure build elsewhere. I’m not sure we’ve a right to such expectations anyhow: the main opponent was formidable to begin with — add Shevchenko and surely the thought of catching even a sniff of their exhaust fumes is a futile one.

Those of you who clutch straws at Olympian level might cite Rush’s 1988 return as a precedent — a marvellous marksman added to a seemingly indomitable side, yet we lost the title to Arsenal.

Everton buying Lineker, Arsenal buying Wright, United buying Van Nistelrooy — it’s happened before, can it happen again? Er, no. Sure, I was quoted in the Arena preview last week saying Liverpool would come first, but I was surrounded by smug Chelsea fans and they got me drunk and, well, one thing led to another. It seems we can achieve 90% of what’s necessary easily and quickly — that final, elusive 10% of ‘je ne sais quoi’ never even looked like being attained.

So what are The Gafa’s chances? Inevitably, all talk of £30 million transfer kitties turned out to be hot air — the mind games and posturing back in March don’t seem to have worked. Back then, Real Madrid were coached by a nonentity tap-dancing on a trapdoor. Benitez was the obvious replacement, but many fans thought he’d be inundated with lavish funds for exciting, new exciting players when he signed a contract extension — they watched the World Cup the same way footballers’ wives glance through jewellery display cases: ‘that one, that one, that one and that one’. Poor deluded fools. Madrid now have Capello —who knows, he might even last a whole season.

So can we all breath easily now our manager won’t be leaving? The purchase of Kuyt looks dependent upon Champions League qualification, which makes last Wednesday’s result doubly frustrating. The sale is by no means a sure thing — Liverpool have become renowned for ‘the last piece in the jigsaw’, players added to decent teams who’d help us make that final step to title glory.

Who knows? Maybe it’ll be the less obvious candidates who finally deliver? It’s stretching credulity to add Pennant and Bellamy to that lengthy list — they’re decent players of course, a bit too familiar with police stations, but if United can turn a blind eye, I’m sure we can. The pair could certainly make us better to watch, which becomes more important than titles as I get older.

I often wonder if my fellow supporters have a full grasp of the facts. There’s often talk about our ‘rightful place’, but be honest: we’ve existed for 114 years and dominated our league for 15 of them. We’ve had successful eras and competitive eras, but ‘first is first, second is nowhere’ applies only to an eighth of our history. We’ll probably end this decade as England’s superior Cup team, but that still wouldn’t be enough for some. Just being compared with the other three — favourably or otherwise — will have to do, while Chelsea’s extraordinary spree continues. We can only try to improve ourselves and see where that leads. I’m not sure we’ll be able to top the 82 points from last season though — that had a slightly freakish feel to it.

The pre-season games haven’t exactly set pulses racing either — not that I pay much attention, since they’re glorified training sessions really, but the odd clean sheet would’ve been appreciated and a 5-0 defeat against some team you’ve never heard of doesn’t bode well. I suppose all clubs will blame the World Cup for their fitness struggles and lack of organisation, but we started last season slowly, without any of this summer’s distractions — and have you seen the early fixture list?

I’m hardly a fan of the ‘Community’ Shield — it still rankles me how more than 1,000 Liverpool fans had their tickets stolen and were so badly treated by the “football family” last May. Needless to say, our allocation still sold out while the London elite could barely get out of bed. Northern exasperation aside, we wouldn’t have lost sleep if we’d gone down — although there’s a certain satisfaction from an improvement in performance and the ever-encroaching madness of King Jose.

I can’t begin to comprehend what’s going on in Jose’s Papillon head: the more you say someone doesn’t bother you, the less likely people will believe you. Jose is like one of those plastic surgery victims who never stop smelling. With that squad and his talent, no on needs mind games but he simply can’t stop himself.

There’s no such thing as a poor bookie, so Jose should take a reassuring glance at the current Premiership odds: 1-2 for Chelsea, 8-1 for the other ‘big three’. The fifth favourites? Spurs at 80-1.

The greatest competition in the world? Excuse me while I guffaw.

sheet would’ve been appreciated and a 5-0 defeat against some team you’ve never heard of doesn’t bode well. I suppose all clubs will blame the World Cup for their fitness struggles and lack of organisation, but we started last season slowly, without any of this summer’s distractions — and have you seen the early fixture list?

I’m hardly a fan of the ‘Community’ Shield — it still rankles me how more than 1,000 Liverpool fans had their tickets stolen and were so badly treated by the “football family” last May. Needless to say, our allocation still sold out while the London elite could barely get out of bed. Northern exasperation aside, we wouldn’t have lost sleep if we’d gone down — although there’s a certain satisfaction from an improvement in performance and the ever-encroaching madness of King Jose.

I can’t begin to comprehend what’s going on in Jose’s Papillon head: the more you say someone doesn’t bother you, the less likely people will believe you. Jose is like one of those plastic surgery victims who never stop smelling. With that squad and his talent, no on needs mind games but he simply can’t stop himself.

There’s no such thing as a poor bookie, so Jose should take a reassuring glance at the current Premiership odds: 1-2 for Chelsea, 8-1 for the other ‘big three’. The fifth favourites? Spurs at 80-1.

The greatest competition in the world? Excuse me while I guffaw.