Jury’s out but Bellamy is Red hot

DON’T get me wrong. At half time in the JJB you won’t have found a smugger smirk than mine.

But I’d already made notes for this column after Portsmouth. Damn!

The words ‘pathetic’, ‘deadbeats’, ‘unremitting eye-gouging awfulness’ and ‘skewer Jermaine Pennant on a spit and fry slowly’ would have to be hastily deleted.

I might leave the last bit in, actually.

This column from another dimension would ring alarm bells with church-like precision and search for convincing arguments why Rafa was still The Man despite a trickling accumulation of reservations.

I’ll keep it in a folder and wait for the inevitable rainy day. Riding the red rollercoaster will have us seething and cursing soon enough.

At 9 o’clock last Wednesday I got a text from a mate who sits about ten rows behind me: “in nice warm pub with nice cold cider, game on foreign TV, could get used to this”.

Ordinarily I’d have replied with one word — “Traitor” — but this time? “Why didn’t you come and get me?”

We’d not played too badly in the first half actually, but then screaming tedium took over alongside the dread of being trapped in a living hell. It would make Poe tremble.

Another friend sits in the Main Stand. He says Pennant kept glancing at the bench. Add that to his wish to get himself sent off, and Liverpool fans turned on him with a vengeance.

Despite a rep for swift impatience it takes a lot to make us curdle the blood of our own. On a night like this when you’re looking for anything to pierce the gloom you don’t want some cocky millionaire who’s proved nothing virtually declaring he’d rather be somewhere else.

Wouldn’t we all? We weren’t helped by injuries of course but even then Rafa invoked fear of risk by giving Carra the central midfield role. He did his best, doesn’t he always, but Agger uses the ball much better and can actually shoot properly.

Portsmouth didn’t help but they’re not supposed to. It smacked of Houllier’s 2002 when teams sussed him out and began to sit back. Even Ferguson did it. Faced with the task of grabbing the game by the balls Liverpool invariably looked like teenage boys trying to unfasten their first bra.

Pompey remained third, which was a harsh indictment of the best league in the world (does anyone still believe this?) One goal and we’d have been 3rd. I’m not sure which was the biggest confirmation of inadequacy to be frank.

It’s not a problem unique to the Reds but when key players lose form or fitness there are no replacements.

There’s no Alonso-alike and no Sissoko-alike. As for Steven Gerrard, let’s not even go there.

By his mere presence on Saturday Xabi made a real difference to the passing game.

It won’t all be wine and roses for Bellamy. From a distance admittedly it looked like there were ‘verbals’ from at least one Wigan defender and I can just imagine what about.

Footballers may be deemed innocent in court but in a world where Frank Lampard is ‘Fat’ that will count for nothing. You bait your opponents with anything no matter how ludicrous.

If it provokes the Welsh Taz into feats such as Saturday’s we’ll reap the rewards. As needs must.

Against Portsmouth Crouch and Kuyt were everywhere except where forwards ought to be — on the shoulder of the last defender waiting for a killer pass or (call me irresponsible) in the box.

Bellamy did that superbly, twice. If his season picks up like Crouch’s last year so much the better.

Squint a bit and that swift predatory short-arse could have been Owen. For all Gerrard’s occasional heroics that is the sort of player a Benitez side desperately needs.

Good football is peachy, controlling games all well and good, but stick the ball in the net and the sun shines on the darkest day.

Pace and precision simply cannot be countered. It was wonderful to see a Liverpool team go from box to box in seconds for an exceptional third goal, then glass-half-empty mode kicks in and you wonder why we don’t do it more often.

Wigan were woeful yet still could have made it awkward.

We could quibble about a disinterested second half but Turkey’s a long trip and we can’t rest everyone. Kuyt reverted back to chasing lost causes and helping defenders, which made you wonder if the first half was an illusion.

It’s okay, I’m happy really. No, honestly.