Even when he does something so sublime, so perfect he almost makes himself cry, you’re calculating the pay-off on the Bale-Real Scale.
Imagine working it out on the Carroll-Liverpool Scale; does Sheikh Mansour even have that much money? Then you start gnawing your fingers till you see bone, worrying how badly Liverpool will spend it. Will this agony never end? The crescendo for each goal grew louder, but after everyone settled back in their seat came the immediate passion killer, the cerebral cold shower; he’s too good for us, isn’t he? A Norwich fan would need to be Gandhi and Jesus combined not to be taking this personally now. I recall Robbie used to like facing Villa as Rushie did with Everton, but this has turned into personal vendetta.
There was a fraction of a second before the third goal where he delayed the shot, recalibrated and fired. He could barely believe it.
By evening’s end, it was hard to summon up much thought on anybody else.
Bearing in mind the stunned, pulverised response of the opposition, you could vaguely detect Allen being neat and tidy and almost scoring, Gerrard getting forward more and almost scoring whilst Sterling wasn’t completely terrible and did score.
None of it mattered. In fact such victories have become commonplace. What made the Hull nightmare resonate with revulsion was that it was one in the category fans have come to label “three points in the bag”.
Which lest I become utterly morose is an oblique sign of improvement. Some statto whipped up a table that compared Brendan favourably with Rafa and Kenny. He (it’s always a he) blithely ignored cups — maybe John Henry did it — and the fact Rodgers will have to win 17 more league games this season to stay ahead of Benitez. He won’t, of course.
So having reached the bullying stage, already we screech the eternal supporter’s lament: what have you done for me lately?
Tell us something we don’t know. Evans reversed the Souness fiasco so quickly that people barely noticed and got straight into demand mode.
Which was grossly unfair of course, but we’re Liverpool for God’s sake. Moyes got 11 years at Everton building and legitimising; all the boring words that the mediocre convince themselves is part of being a proper supporter. United won’t put up with that for 11 months, and why should they? This is big boys’ league. You want fairness? Learn chess.
Rodgers may never receive the petal-strewn path currently granted to Martinez, for example. The horizon will always be a bit further on, and we must keep pushing it on.
To say we came and went from the West Ham game in bullish mood is an understatement. Results went our way, but there were moments of concern before the eventual conquest.
‘Allardici’ is a wonderful comic invention; the gap between fantasy and reality as wide as an ocean. He even had the nerve to compare Liverpool’s one poor challenge with the concerted brutalisation on Suarez and Coutinho.
They used to be The Academy, the source of everything good about football; Sam (neither Big nor clever) has taken that noble history, squashed it into a giant pancake and swallowed it whole.
The groans for Sterling’s misses were muffled into a grudging admiration for the lad’s persistence. Suarez wasn’t magnificent, merely great. Refunds were demanded, but the first-hand evidence that Cole, Downing and Carroll now play elsewhere was somewhat mollifying. Sakho looked a little steadier, but tougher challenges ahead and all that…
We needed this week because Hull was unnervingly poor. We still don’t know what we’ve got. We just know it’s better.
How much better? We’ve three weeks to find out. Strap in.