A team of two halves; will the real Liverpool stand up?

DOES anyone know where they stand with this team of ours any more?

You try to rein in your demands, largely because you know they can’t be met anyway.

But why did I travel to Blackburn willing to accept a point? Why, at a ground where we hadn’t lost for ten years and against a team that Arsenal slammed six past, did I find myself uttering the phrase “difficult place to get a result”? Strolling through the upper tier concourse I was dismayed to hear a large cheer when TV screens showed Cole’s admittedly hilarious og at The Bridge.

Hurrah! United are closer to another title and our total. Oh no, wait a moment. You didn’t seriously think it meant a better chance of Liverpool catching up? Please tell me “the most knowledgeable fans around” are not so deluded that they can be dazzled by victories over Charlton and Watford? Two hours later they trudged out of Ewood Park with no points but with a little more self-awareness. They could hardly have left with less.

Sure there were numerous chances that went close but that only made things worse. As we began to look closely at whom we were relying on to break the deadlock, hearts sank.

We’ll excuse Bellamy because he at least gives it a good go. Crouch, the man with the foam rubber head, looked as if he believed all those Newcastle rumours. He had the nerve to grumble when he was replaced.

As for Kuyt, have we signed the most expensive ball boy in history? Get in the box, for God’s sake, and do your job.

Needless to say when he got his one half-chance it went straight at Friedel.

Now there’s talk of spending €25million on Valencia’s David Villa. No way. Rafa’s record with strikers surely hasn’t convinced anyone, least of all the club’s potential investors, that his judgement can be backed with that amount on one player? Battles were lost all over the pitch. Alonso broke free to lash in a few shots from distance but once again when midfield stops being a geometry exam and becomes a scrap he’s found wanting.

A young lady from Cork chastised me for continually deriding our great captain. I was also advised by a local journalist not to go in hard on him because his child was ill over Christmas.

All duly noted, but if he isn’t in the right frame of mind he should not play. At Blackburn that was more or less the case.

We had 10,000 there but for most of the second half you’d never have guessed. Once a goal is conceded there is a casual acceptance this can only end one way.

Tottenham continued the trend, but if you thought that would make me happy you thought wrong. Jol was a coward in the first half and got what he deserved. Benitez was cautious in the second and got away with it.

It was all too ‘Houllier’ for comfort. We had no luck at Blackburn and lost. We had the luck at Spurs and won. We blow in the wind of fortune, victims or victors according to an outside force we cannot overpower.

Even the torrential downpour ended just as we were leaving the stadium in a state of astonished ecstasy, like someone who leaves a car wreck without a scratch. It was our day, pure and simple.

It could have been so different. We deserved the lead, however scrappily it arrived, but what followed felt so wrong.

Bolton, like all bullies, tremble when you stand up to them. For an hour they niggled and infuriated as usual but once we scored all resistance evaporated.

But are we that much different from Bolton? There is a Liverpool that’s a goal ahead and a Liverpool that’s a goal behind. They are polar opposites.

Pennant had a great game and Crouch once again displayed his uncanny skill on the floor — but he still can’t head a ball.

I just don’t know how good we are or where we stand in the scheme of things any more, but if you’d offered me third place as I left the Emirates in November I’d have ripped your arms off.

Maybe we can start making those demands after all?