It’s all in the numbers — just ask Houillier

IT wasn’t such a bad week after all. Even when you want a new boss, supporters dread the day when the decision finally comes.

It is the last nail, and even the optimists can no longer kid themselves.

After a week of speculation, Martin O’Neill’s never-ending purchase of property reached fever pitch.

If you believe everything taxi drivers tell you, he’d bought new homes in the Wirral (he’s off to Liverpool), Cheshire (United) and North London (Spurs).

And he does all this while managing Celtic? What a guy! When the Reds are floundering, you need distractions. This may be a good time to tell you what I do for what I wittily call ‘a living’. I’ve run a fanzine for 14 years.

Last week the new issue was out, which meant rounding up my posse, the bunch of misfits otherwise known as my sales team.

The omens were not good. One had fallen down in a drunken stupor and broken his leg. Another had flu.

Standing outside Anfield trying to flog 48 pages of miserabilism isn’t easy at the best of times. Pouring rain just makes it unbearable.

We managed to sell a few copies in the end, but it meant dragging a soggy body into the match. Soaked through and weighed down by coins, I looked like I had two obese hamsters in my pants. I usually save that for Saturday night.

I’m always tempted to say “to hell with it” and skive off to the pub at times like this. Not on Saturday, though. It was a 12.30 kick-off, but we weren’t on TV.

I never found out why we started early. Some say there were police fears, either of Leeds fans coming through Manchester or the effect alcohol would have on any Kewell protests. Surely both guesses were preposterous? Probably not, if they’re as petty as their chairman. He stayed away from Anfield in protest. That’s telling us.

Anyone still convinced of Harry’s ‘treachery’ should ask Viduka or Smith what their plans are. “We’re staying on the sinking ship, we’ve heard such great things about drowning”? Hardly.

But Leeds fans aren’t the brightest, keeping up their tired “Liverpool slums” songs and “Harry Who?” chant.

I’m sure Kewell’s bothered. As bothered as Jonathan Who, Rio Who, Lee Who, Olivier Who, Robbie Who x 2 and David O’Who.

It wasn’t a bad match, actually. Leeds showed some class, but once they were 2-1 down it was easy to see why they’re struggling. Their heads imploded, seemingly more intent on violence than an equalising goal.

Another distraction from my woes last week was the World Series in America. I love baseball, and if Boston can’t beat the Yankees at least the Marlins punctured the New York egomania (no wonder they joined forces with United).

It was an exciting glimpse of sport’s incomparable beauty. Florida don’t have the financial muscle of US sport’s biggest ‘franchise’, but they still came out on top.

Their coach is 70! The next time you read any other boss whining about other clubs’ wealth or your “unreasonable expectations”, tell him to blow it out of his big fat backside.

As a stats freak myself, I share Baseball’s obsession with numbers. “Katzenjammer is hitting 3 for 14 whenever he has cereal in the morning, and 4 for 17 if he has a fry-up“.

With most sports, the truth is in the numbers. Hypothesis simply doesn’t cut it. Gerard glibly asks his boys to win 20 of the remaining games, but a lot of the great Liverpool sides never produced such a finish.

How players who won 14 league games in the last calendar year are going to win another 20 by next May is beyond me.

Then there is the small problem of Michael Owen. If he scores, we win. If he doesn’t, we lose. Truth and numbers: we’ve won three league games in a year without an Owen special.

It doesn’t have to be the winner, but there is something talismanic about our number 10. No wonder we send him out half fit.

But he still lasted longer than Smicer! Which is a shame, because when the Czech is out there we’re a better team for it. We do seem to be suffering from diminishing returns, though. The number 11 is being held up earlier and earlier. At the current rate, Vladi will soon be getting subbed an hour before kick-off.

At least his replacement got the second goal. I don’t hold with this “controversy” lark. With any other club, the media would demand the benefit of the doubt for forwards.

We get a break, and all hell breaks loose. Poor old Peter Reid was jumping up and down on the touchline, like a chimp on a trampoline.

How sad must you be to admit spending days ‘coaching’ your players to, er, all run out with their arms in the air. Bear that in my mind the next time he’s telling Sven what to do on the BBC.

Shades of George Graham’s Arsenal, and everyone hated that team. Leeds fans do not need a crystal ball. Find a set of fixtures and see which division Sunderland are in. There’s your fortune good and told.

I liked the look of Pennant, though. If he really is cheesed off with Wenger, maybe we should make a few calls? He caused all kinds of trouble for Riise. Hardly a Herculean task, admittedly.

John Arne comes forward well, but his defensive capabilities are zero. He should have worn a blue shirt at Portsmouth, and Pennant also gave him a torrid time.

Until Gerrard gave him a swift elbow in the neck. The winger disappeared soon afterwards, and our new Captain Fantastic hasn’t been weaned off two-footed tackles either. Guilty again on Saturday.

Let’s hope we can work out a chant for Florent Sinama-Pongolle soon. If we’ve found another player who can score the odd winner, it would be nice to thank him once in a while.