Just like the ’80s as Reds roll back Brum

KENNY is back, and he’s brought the ‘80s with him. The Kop were in Depeche mode and the away end responded with Pigbag. A team in all red passed, moved and hunted the opposition in packs. The visitors rolled over, realising that resistance was useless.

Not fussed about the right-wing government and the unemployment, but rough with the smooth and all that…

It might be tempting fate to indulge in such optimistic clairvoyance but there was an unmistakable air of conviction about Liverpool against Birmingham on Saturday. And we had something else that’s been missing from Anfield for a long while; fun.

You know that’s coming from someone who’d rather crack a finger than a smile so it must be true.

It’s wonderful watching Suarez. Not everything comes off by any means, and if he must insist on shooting with his left then put some overtime in at Melwood, but he is relentless and never stops tormenting defenders.

With Torres finally off the mark we can get on with our lives and pack the Birtles jokes away. Final word though; having a Suarez attitude up front rather than the sulky ‘presence’ thinking he deserves better without working for it has played a major part in our improvement.

And it’s infectious.

We’re looking at players who months ago made you shake your head in wonderment that they get on the Anfield stage at all. There’s a real camaraderie in this team that wasn’t there before, and that has to be Kenny’s doing.

I watched Cole during the half-time interval, dejectedly swapping passes with Poulsen during their warm-up. His accuracy and control were exceptional.

Okay, it’s hardly in the heat of battle but it was impressive. However, as he trundled off when the team returned for the second half not one of the four or five players he passed seemed to acknowledge his presence.

Perhaps Scousers aren’t as fluent in body language as we like to think we are, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. He barely raised an arm or a smile after he’d scored either, but the team were all over him and the goal sparked the biggest cheer of the day.

And that got me thinking; is a full-blown exodus necessary? Some of the expendables have obvious gifts but they’ve been shackled and suppressed for so long. Is anyone beyond redemption? Certainly not Maxi, who seemed to have vanished and even when he played before seemed not to care. Three goals later, who knows? Flanagan already handles an old lag’s intimidation with barely suppressed contempt; Gareth Barry had tried it on to no avail, and this time Bowyer got nowhere.

It’s okay saying this was “only Birmingham” but it was Houllier who last got the better of them in the league (get well soon, Gerard) and our complacency against the fodder has been a pain all season.

United pick up trophies by putting minnows in their place. We had an idle 10 minutes after the opening goal, but once Kuyt scored it was plain sailing. As it should be.

Everyone’s in such a good mood. I’ve heard the most insignificant ex-Mancs get booed here, but Ben Foster got three ovations.

Numerous attacks broke down, but the passing leading up to them was so crisp and inventive that prolonged applause broke out every few minutes. Obviously five goals plays its part in the exuberance, but before I’m accused of getting carried away or am actually carried away in a Lector mask let’s number crunch; that’s 26 points from the last 12 games, which rounded off would give us more than United will get this season.

And lest we forget we’ve rarely seen our first-choice team in that time. Four or five were still missing on Saturday.

Pessimism is this boy’s default position, it was even when Kenny was King first time around, and I’ll doubtless suffer for this giddiness soon enough. But it matters little; good football, unity amongst the fans at last, sponsorship deals which dwarf previous contracts and, most importantly, a sense of direction after two years’ staring into the abyss.

In a word, fun. Even miserabilists need some occasionally.