Holding back against Chelsea left me Blue

AS WITH most things in football, finding the right balance is essential even to those of us on the margins. Last week’s rare whiff of positivism struck a chord with readers who have bafflingly come to see me as a miserable old warthog.

Well, after a resounding victory at the weekend you’ll not be surprised to discover a reversion to glass-half-empty mode.

It seemed rather pointless to answer Mr Kurt’s invitation to savour Chelsea’s difficulties, especially as they pave the way for the future triumph of a club we actually despise as opposed to one we find merely distasteful.

But after Ferguson’s assertion that some Liverpool fans want United to win the league, it would appear some kind of unpleasant disease has Manchester in its putrid grip.

I suggest a long period of quarantine. Fifty years should do the trick. We might have won number 19 by then. He could be onto something though: we all shed a few tears on Sunday evening.

Whatever skullduggery is going on at Stamford Bridge it is safe to assume that a cleaner bill of health next season will probably see a return to what laughably passes for ‘normality’ these days.

Having spent over two years swearing blind that the money wasn’t what made them special it seems some Chelsea fans are in danger of believing their own propaganda and backing the wrong horse entirely.

I don’t care how generous and ‘private’ any individual happens to be, a bit of gratitude for saving a club and handing them some long-awaited success wouldn’t go amiss right now.

Given all their fortuitous weaknesses, it was important Liverpool started well and that’s exactly what they did. What followed was efficient enough, but did leave a slightly sour taste.

Last season, Chelsea ran riot at Anfield simply because of a rampant Drogba and Hyypia’s sloppy guts. Presented with a far better opportunity to rub our rivals’ noses in it we politely declined and played out time.

We once benefited from Rafa’s restraint, if that’s what it is. In a Champions League tie his Valencia side ripped us to bits in the first half and shut it down in the second. I can still recall the mix of relief and gratitude when they didn’t go for our exposed jugular.

It’s what his teams do; he won’t change. When you’ve had so much success you’re hardly likely to listen to some ungrateful oik! It’s been a year since we last scored first and didn’t win, so who’s the expert around here? It’s not as if we couldn’t have got a third on Saturday, a fresh coat of paint on the crossbar was the only obstacle to a revitalised Riise, but we were a Lampard magic bullet away from a tense finale.

I’m not sulking for show here. There were more than enough positives: Kuyt adding marksmanship to his phenomenal work-rate, Aurelio looking the part at last, Pennant’s fabulous strike and finally a captain’s performance in this fixture after a coincidental 30 months of anonymity.

Reina’s accumulation of clean sheets is extraordinary, and cannot be considered a freak after last season’s feats, while we’re running out of superlatives for the imperious Carragher.

I’m not being sadistic either; it’s the lack of practicality. Making it 3-0 or keeping hold of the ball would surely have ensured victory whereas keeping a tight shape can only make it likelier. Chelsea were toothless, perhaps admittedly as a result of our professionalism and commitment to a defensive mindset, but I can’t help seeing it as an opportunity wasted.

At least Benitez and Abramovich have one thing in common. They know there’s just no pleasing some people.