The American way: Highway for Rafa?

HOWDY Y’ALL.Excuse me for slipping into the vernacular for a cotton-picking minute. It’s obviously a direct result of reading all those tedious e-mail circulars.

They look remarkably similar to the ones that did the rounds when the Glazers were being smuggled into Old Trafford in tanks. They’re pretty much wasted on us; we’ve always been the more pragmatic of the two clubs.

We’re not doing cartwheels yet but there’s a sense of necessity that’s almost universally recognised.

So while Hicks and Gillett soccerize themselves (electro-shock therapy whenever the word ‘franchise’ slips out, meeting “defence man” Carragher, dollops of mindless optimism, that sort of thing) we can put up with the occasional headlong crash through the language barrier.

Whilst fervently hoping the walking of the walk can follow the bullish talking of the talk.

I loved Bill Hicks; he made me laugh so much before a vulgar little tumour took him. It’s fair to say he had a caustic attitude towards those who slavishly pursued the almighty dollar. It involved doing things to a certain part of Satan’s anatomy that cannot be repeated in a family newspaper.

What he would make of Rick Parry fawning to a Bush acolyte is anybody’s guess. It seems the Hicks of Texas have a comedic streak a mile wide. I’m sure Carragher and Gerrard never really called Rafa “the greatest of geniuses”. We’ll put that one down to Yank overstatement.

Yet it would be fascinating to discover our new benefactors’ reactions to the frozen bewilderment displayed by our manager during Everton’s second-half resistance 11 days ago.

The row with Everton rumbled on for days, reinforcing a claim Rafa never actually made. He didn’t use the word “club”.

He must have been scratching his head. He hears Moyes talk of the “massive gulf” between the two TEAMS and then gets flayed alive for calling them small. Okay then, Everton are “big”. What does that make the team on the other side of this massive gulf? Super-enormo-mega-hugetastic? Hardly.

Blues can nurse even an imaginary grievance like Florence Nightingale these days, simultaneously proving what we’ve known all along. One of their ex-strikers said “two clean sheets in the derbies — not a bad season’s work”.

He did, he really did say that! While it provided a little amusement for a few days the Newcastle result gave more ammunition to the Rafa-baiters.

When Liverpool “park the bus” at the Nou Camp the Chubby Little Spaniard hunting season will officially be in full swing. Lock and load. Some Reds wonder why our guy gets ripped apart on a regular basis while the others seem to get away with murder.

While Scousers aren’t averse to crying “conspiracy” from time to time it’s probably to do with the fact the others have won titles and Rafa hasn’t.

A situation that’s not likely to be rectified any time soon. It would be churlish to use the last two results to rub salt in his wounds, especially as it ignores the improvement we’ve made since the Emirates spanking.

Anfield has become the spiritual home of the jerking knee. It should be remembered that this is the first meaningful game we’ve lost from a winning position since 2004.

But people were leaving with minutes to go on Saturday because they knew there wouldn’t be an equaliser.

Liverpool’s finishing was abject, as it’s been for most of Rafa’s reign. Kuyt’s work-rate is to be admired even the Americans will want to know why millions were spent on a striker who seems allergic to the box. You don’t become a billionaire without recognising value for money or a lack of it. As for selling Warnock while Aurelio is injury prone and Riise’s arrogance grows in direct contrast to his performance, there are remote tribes in Patagonian rain forests criticising the boss.

Accidents happen. But this is the second February in a row where we’ve blown a decent chance to finish runners-up. With new owners focussed on first place only, you wonder if they’ll actually wait for strike three before seeking significant changes.

Have a nice day.