Lady Luck is smiling on Houllier again

MEANINGLESS cup ties and London on the Sabbath. Not exactly the tonic Reds would wish for, but all’s well that ends well.

It would take a petty, mean man of waspish disposition to moan about three straight victories. So here goes.

It's not hard to work out why the League Cup's been sponsored by one alcoholic beverage after another.

A state bordering on oblivion is the only way to get through it. Expect it to be called the Chloroform Cup in years to come.

I don't believe the draw was rigged in any way, oh no. The Examiner's lawyers think likewise! It's a bit of a coincidence, however, that the most popular clubs in the country were handed 'grudge' matches they couldn't take lightly.

My stance, for what it's worth, is that the Carling and UEFA Cups don't earn you any brownie points nowadays. The league is what counts, and I feel I'm in the majority.

But you can forgive Gerard for being confused. 42,000 turned out to see Liverpool stroll past a team they couldn't even spell.

And well over 8,000 descended on Ewood Park more than were there to support Rovers! No wonder the boss thinks these games are meaningful.

Blackburn are always generous with their ticket allocations, because their own inhabitants aren't interested.

I strongly object to subsidising Blackburn's football team when their own townsfolk won't.

Their latest crowd-grabbing wheeze is to have Graeme Souness yeowling at them from various bus shelters. It's a recording obviously, not the real thing.

Although he wouldn't be the first Scotsman to scare the bejabers out of passers-by in city centres.

It turned out to be an eventful evening. Many thought Lucas Neill received a feeble 'punishment' for his disgraceful tackle on Carragher.

Fate played a part in making sure he serves something like a suitable ban, and brought us back into a game we'd scarcely been interested in.

You wondered if both managers would subtly try to drop out of the competition and concentrate on the bigger challenges ahead.

I half expected it to end like the boxing match in 'Porridge' when both fighters took a dive. So naturally that's the time Emile chooses to score again! Our crossing has been woeful for ages. It's never been the same since McAllister left, but if Diouf should add guile to his all-round nuisance value he may yet justify the fee.

Of course, we never make it easy for ourselves. A back four including Biscan Traore and Riise is like a nightmare I had once.

Even if the first choice defence is picked, it's become obvious that The Shutdown is a thing of the past.

And don't blame the new positive approach. The inability to protect a lead goes back a lot longer than that.

I'm sure Kirkland appreciated the complete lack of protection for one of his increasingly rare appearances.

A nice story emerged last week about Houllier giving the then-injured keeper his Worthington Cup medal. Or it seemed nice at first.

In the immediate euphoria of a cup final victory over United, I'd hand Michael Owen my testicles on a plate if he so much as asked for them. So I'm not too impressed by a mere medal.

And why is this news emerging now? Could it be that the story ("great guy", "what a manager", "let's keep him" etc) wasn't actually NEEDED at the time? Maybe I've been a cynic too long? Let's just call it a sweet gesture and leave it at that.

Cynicism tends to be my default position anyway. London games tend to exacerbate my mood.

You'd think it possible for a civilised country to organise a train to get you from one big city to another by midday, right? Wrong. Not in England, not on a Sunday. So you either miss the first half altogether or travel down the day before.

My hopes weren't high anyway. The last time we played two games in a week, we were dreadful in the match that counted.

So it didn't auger well when Gerrard trudged off the pitch last Wednesday. With doubts over Hyypia and Owen, we eagerly awaited Smicer's inevitable withdrawal and Heskey's inevitable limp.

We actually began like a team possessed. True, not a team possessed with too much creativity, but it was all very frenetic.

When Emile gets into one of his goal scoring phases, you have to steel yourself for the inevitable "proved you wrong" jibes.

Well, no. He hasn't. We've been here before, haven't we? He may even score against the Mancs, but you know it will all disappear just as quickly as it came. Again.

And yes, he did start hobbling theatrically in the second half. It gets on your nerves, because you knew Owen wasn't going to last (not that he did much anyway). You want your other striker to grit it out, but you don't expect it.

WE DIDN'T do very much with our lead, echoing earlier games when the players thought 1-0 was enough. It never is, and no matter how many times we're punished for a lack of urgency they never learn.

Fulham didn't really deserve to lose, but it became harder to sympathise as the inevitable underdog mentality crept in.

The so-called minnows tend to think they need the decisions to go their way before a game even starts. When they don't, it isn't long before the persecution complex pervades every aspect of their performance.

The penalty and red card decisions were spot on, but Fulham had already lost their heads by then.

I love small, boxy grounds like Loftus Road. You can get your 'close-ups' without the TV for once, and when Murphy scored the winner there was a faint veneer of incredulity all over his face.

The 'offside' goal against Leeds. Another red card at Blackburn. A reckless late tackle in the box at Fulham. Lady Luck, the perfidious slut, has finally come back to us. And not a moment too soon.