With Roy gone, the focus turns to Torres

BETTER late (even six months late) than never. Hodgson and Liverpool, strawberries and creme de menthe, Russ Abbott and Elvis Costello.

Someone finally cottoned on and it was a minuscule mill town that witnessed the coup de grace.

Despite the drivel he’s spouted and the eyeball-pummelling ‘football’ he’s overseen, you could feel little but pity for Roy in that final week.

It felt like the owners were hoping he’d rub his head off. In charge by default until he could stand no more of the humiliation and abuse.

We’ve been dreadful but he didn’t deserve that, especially when the players have been absolute garbage. Ewood Park is one of the great away days, just round the corner and plenty of tickets.

A midweek game, post-Christmas and in a recession were more than enough reasons to give it a miss, but there was also the expectation of humiliation.

It’s not as if we were subjected to the usual away day cowardice either. Maradona and Messi could combine in some parallel universe Nirvana and they still couldn’t win with defending like that.

Hopefully that’s the straw that broke Glen Johnson’s back. If not, I’ll happily volunteer to finish the job.

Kelly’s exceptional performance at Old Trafford should be the alarm call for a player that has seriously lost his way. Not that he’ll care, another club with more money than sense will bail him out and the whole arrogant, complacent spectacle continues anew.

Angry chants flared up again. Though a Rafa song received short shrift, the home section mockery was amplified by the away end. It had come to this; one of our own was being abused and we joined in.

You can always rely on rationalisation though; “he was never one of us, so I have a perfect right to behave this way” echoed through thousands of skulls.

The rest folded their arms, stared at the floor and wondered what the point was any more. Thursday and Friday was spent glued to the internet and sports channels. Ghastly gossipmongers told any lie and it spread like wildfire. There were pictures of Roy loading the boot of his car at Melwood, and the inquest began. Was it his belongings? His outdated methods and chalkboard? What was left of his dignity?

Saturday saw everyone put out of their misery, and Kenny was back. There were skirmishes over the media wringing of hands, as they desperately blamed the fans and (unbelievably) Rafa.

There’s a cracking photo doing the rounds of Kenny’s old coat in a display case at the Anfield museum. Words have been added; “in case of emergency, break glass”. The wags.

It’s all been rather peculiar; United in the cup became a sideshow, an irrelevance, an unwelcome distraction from serious business. Until our old pal Webb took centre stage, for the third fixture running. Then the old septic juices overflowed once more.

The strongest impulses in a Liverpool fan are to burn The Sun and never, ever behave like an Evertonian. Squealing about referees and conspiracies is not on, but who can do otherwise after Sunday? They’re not even disguising it now.

Argue about the ‘intelligence’ of Agger and Gerrard all you want, but those decisions aren’t given on any other ground in the country.

After that it became damage limitation. United attract so much criticism for how they play now that it is automatically assumed they’ve been bad despite winning.

I thought they done well second half and it was to our credit that we held out. The resistance returned within the support too, after the fire was blown out by the penalty.

In the end a club decision to take action after weeks of miserable pleading held sway. At our peak we rarely won this fixture, so the 0-1 and the decisions ultimately worked in our favour.

With Hodgson gone, talk can resume about the attitude of Torres and the squad’s weakness !without it being seen as blame deflection.

Dalglish is back, and for this relief, much thanks.