The famous Anfield bore as Rafa puts safety first

ONLY a deranged, callous moron could find fault with his team after they’ve reached the last four of the Champions League again.

So here goes.

Does it have to be such an effort? I know it doesn’t matter in the scheme of things but, but, but...

I’m forever jumping the gun on Rafa’s conversion to “positive” football. In Eindhoven he sussed a weak, hobbled side and instructed his team to slice open the jugular. Either that or they just ignored his usual plan and attacked anyway. Was that why he was so angry? I’m sure you’re all bored by endless eulogies to United’s destruction of a tactically inept side. Who gets caught on the counter in the opening stages of a second leg, for God’s sake? Yet in the main they earn their plaudits. That’s what they usually try to do.

Liverpool, three up at home, do not go for more goals because hey, “you never know”.

Crouch sounded like a contestant from a talent contest: “Tonight, I’m going to be Gerard Houllier circa 2003.” Job done, took no chances, we won didn’t we? Blah. Blah. Blah.

Am I the only one who’s lost here? I despise the implication, prevalent throughout this decade that you can attack or you can win. You can’t do both. This on a night after the team we’re chasing put seven past a better side than PSV. That brought it into sharper focus, although Milan will not be so naïve.

Why am I so indignant? There’s a psychological flaw in people who use their team as a crutch. My whole life’s been a tale of “you never know”.

Don’t sit in the sun because that gives you cancer. Don’t visit the great cities of the world because planes crash. Don’t chat to that gorgeous woman because she’ll probably just humiliate you.

For two wonderful decades my Saturdays were an escape from this fear of Life. Then Houllier came, and though admittedly Rafa is Gerard-lite, that innate caution still casts a shadow. His greatest moment arose because at 0-3 you’ve no choice left but to have a go.

Okay, there was a sense of satisfaction that the job was done. We weren’t chewing our fingers whilst time slowed to an unbearable crawl as the other team chased a late winner. I’ve actually forgotten the last time we cruised through such a high-profile fixture.

At least Pennant gave his all, presumably wound up by this spurious talk of Ronaldo being the best player in the world. That’s right J, you prove them all wrong.

The less said about Zenden the better. To look out of your depth in a dead tie takes some doing. And if Bellamy wasn’t aware his luck was out, being injured while defending a corner probably wised him up.

The atmosphere matched the occasion, not a great European night clearly. There was a rousing 20-minute tribute to Rafa during the first half that soared beyond irony; PSV had the ball for most of its duration. Not that they did anything with it.

Their red card drew howls of derision. It was certainly harsh, but the main bone of contention appeared to be that the tie was over and he should be treated with sympathy.

Right: because coming back from 0-3 against superior opposition can’t happen, can it? Which makes me sound like Rafa doesn’t it!

Speaking of mind games, the “war of words” has already begun with Jose. Pass the migraine tablets, it will only get worse during the next fortnight.

There’ll be more on Chelsea next week, but if you claim you’ve not been thinking about THAT final and its consequences, you’re a liar. There’ll be 17,000 tickets each for the finalists. That will satisfy a fifth of the fans that show up. Christmas has come early for the Greek black market, but maybe Milan and Chelsea can save us all the hassle.

Our level of interest in the City game therefore sank to minus levels. We were still keener than 90% of the players and the coaching staff. They decided it wasn’t worth the effort. They still get paid. I’m not sure which of these notions makes me more nauseous.

It takes a special kind of arrogance to decide which games you’ll turn up for and which you’d rather not bother with. It’s often said supporters aren’t able to switch on and switch off their loyalty with such precision. After the away season we’ve endured, don’t count on it.

Ending on a warmer note I’d like to thank the Celtic fans for their “Hillsborough” banner and Joey Barton for laying flowers before Saturday’s game. Both gestures were much appreciated.

At least some people haven’t forgotten.