In dread of judgment day

YOU’VE enough woes already, I’m sure you don’t want to hear my trivial grievances, but I’ve been saddened by the change in priorities which only hit me full on Monday.

For a number of years I had the unenviable task of ‘writing blind’. An important fixture would be taking place just after my deadline and you needed to decide whether to be gung-ho and assume victory or pussyfoot around to make sure the craggy old boat race remained eggless.

Fantastic European nights against Juventus, Arsenal, Real – and Chelsea so many times I’ve lost count.

And now what? A court case that could decide what if anything the future holds for us. It’s either that or keep picking at the scabs of Northampton and Blackpool.

Thrashing Real and United in the same week, breathless eight-goal draws with Chelsea or Arsenal and desperately hoping the Mancs drop points, such events make the spirit soar and your two typing fingers dance.

If you wish to gauge precisely what the vermin have done to us in 18 months, this column’s as good a place as any to start. Not that they are entirely without admirers. As soon as NESV hove into view there were several volunteers to educate us on what’s really wrong with Liverpool.

The most prominent, Harry Redknapp, ought to know more than most about clubs with clueless owners seemingly hell bent on liquidation, he’s managed three of them, but he was quite happy to do Hicks’ dirty work.

I suppose it’s coincidence a club which came top four in 12 of the last 16 years, played in three European finals and should have been in two more is currently no threat to the mighty Tottenham’s continental ambitions.

We’re exactly where the likes of Harry want us to be.

With Hicks himself it seems more about vengeance every day. There can’t be any part of him that genuinely believes he can ever make the money he claims we’re worth. We’re hostages in all but name.

We can only hope he’s hanging on for an out of court sweetener to soften the blow. Broughton has quite the reputation amongst Reds now, which could all be shattered irreparably if his assurance turns out to be veneer.

I suppose you’ve seen that ‘Mr Hicks’ youtube film, you’d be a rarity if you hadn’t. Whilst I’m not denying it’s excruciating at times, it served a purpose despite the ghastly melodramatic tweeting of its Hollywood creator.

All the campaigns, ill-judged or not, deserve our full support. People got off their arses and did something, and my heart swells with pride as much for that as for any last-gasp winner or trophy.

Should the climb back to the top begin in earnest this week, I hope people will rein in their loftier ambitions for the time being. We’ve tried the shortcut and almost killed the club in the process. I’m aware of the Red Sox resurgence, but it’s slowed down since Tampa became a force and made the AL East the group of death.

Save your fantasy football shopping lists for the future. I’d happily settle for what we had in 2006, some profit to give a canny manager along with cash from player sales. Which manager, though? It looks bleak for poor old Roy. Nobody truly wanted him here, he may as well have had “Stop-gap” tattooed on his forehead.

The chants for Dalglish don’t help, nor do Kenny’s articles in the press. Now he is reported as being “coy” about wanting the job.

Any takeover may work out badly for Hodgson, but will be academic anyway if we wimp out (as we have for much of his ‘tenure‘) at Goodison. It really is up to him; at least go down swinging, man. So football wise all I’ve got this week is England and seeing if Johnson completes his transformation into Josemi. I might even tune into Denmark v Cyprus to see if Poulsen can get any worse. Did you watch him against Portugal? I’ve seen less carnage in demolition derbies. Then again I could get on my knees and pray the courts rule in our favour. Yes, it’s that desperate.

The atheist is always humbled in the end.

I just thought it would be on my deathbed…