Selling our soul to the American dream

FROM “Big Picture” to parochial snapshot: what a strange week it’s been.

When the Dubai takeover was first announced, I said it would be a bonanza for rubberneckers and we haven’t been disappointed! There’s blood everywhere.

We were resigned to seeing our club’s soul hawked hither and yon a long time ago, yet they couldn’t do it with even a shred of decorum.

Little else was expected of Dumb & Dumber to be honest. DIC may think they had the fans onside by insisting Parry and Moores would remain in place, but it was the most disheartening aspect of the deal to many.

One can only hope they’ve raised enough for their worm farm and get the hell out of Anfield. The 21st century beckons, albeit seven years too late.

It depends on which “insider” you listen to, I suppose. DIC’s statement Moores suffered “a mental aberration” may sound inflammatory, but it’s being hinted that was an understatement.

There were also accusations of bad business etiquette, hardly a shock for those who have observed the Reds up close. Dubai seemed understandably unnerved that having courted Moores for months, they should walk him down the aisle only to catch him making goo-goo eyes at the priest.

Counterclaims have emerged that Dubai checked the books and simply could not find the required profit that would justify a £500-million layout. Not that they got the chance to put in a revised offer, which is why they jumped before they were pushed.

There were also hints of future interference in the transfer policy. The manager, for better or worse, has always held sway at Anfield and the idea of bringing in players without his sanction is anathema.

Shankly fought a bitter, protracted battle for managerial sovereignty, and Moores has never been involved despite various excesses, especially under Houllier.

One newspaper suggested DIC wanted to buy Beckham, a thought so appalling it was dismissed as tabloid folly. Now we’re not so sure.

Whether the club is being sold to men who will abide by Shankly’s Law remains to be seen. Hicks and Gillett come with a reputation for letting their clubs run smoothly but it is a hell of a price to pay for a toy you can’t play with.

The cries of panic begin a lot earlier at a club like ours and the chances are they will get louder quicker still with so much cash on the line.

There’s been disquiet about Hicks’ politics, but no one cared when John Smith, an arch Tory, led us to so many triumphs in the 70s and 80s so why sweat it now? Such men swim in the kind of murky waters we can hardly imagine. Once you’ve opened yourselves up to a transaction like this, quibbling about beliefs seems naïve. The sheikh is hardly Che Guevara, is he? Now the local press has been handed the task of shifting public opinion 180 degrees and it’s not one they’ve particularly warmed to. Their front page of Parry’s picture alongside a huge headline of “Trust Us” reminded movie buffs of the snake in Jungle Book. “As far as I can throw you” is the retort we reach for here, I believe.

The only heart-warming aspect is that the threat of sharing a ground with Everton seems to have receded. It’s unlikely that Gillett or Hicks even knew who Everton were, lucky blighters, but when their bid was considered insubstantial and unwelcome it was certainly used as a handy stick to beat them with.

If the powers that be really do fear the supporters’ response to propping up the small club after years of their spite pettiness and spirit-sapping failure, that will be one slim consolation in a morass of moral vacuity.

So much for getting back to football! From grandiose schemes to domestic squabbles, it all seemed beneath us somehow and on Saturday we played like it. We never looked like winning.

Blue hunger and determination reigned and despite the 0-3 they’ve resurrected “0-0 to Everton” with unseemly haste. Back in September we were seven points behind them, now we’re 14 ahead despite their latest “triumph”.

Rafa will come to regret sinking to their level, but the Evertonian response was comical. It was as if, with his outburst, Benitez had infringed their copyright! They seem happy enough with Moyes and Kenwright running things, despite five years of mediocrity and not a single cup run to lighten the gloom. In effect that makes us happy too. Ditto for Roeder and Shepherd at Newcastle, our next port of call.

As we reach for the stars (big and bright in Texas, so we’re told) the last thing we need is any mischief from down below.