Terrace Talk Liverpool: Blessed by Daniel Sturridge’s return to end week on a high

West Ham lost at Anfield. In an ever-changing world, rarely for the better, some things are reassuringly familiar, writes Steven Kelly.

From playground to dotage, in this instance.

It is a slight concern that something bad will happen to me if they ever did win here but it’s beginning to look like the opposite, where Chelsea are concerned.

The days when Rafa was the blood-flecked thorn in their side have long since passed.

All week, there’s been a futile attempt to blot out football’s permanent pantomime. Costa boooo, look out he’s behind you, or standing on you, or throwing spit at you. Mourinho, boooooo.

That was a terrible decision! Blatant penalty! What’s Jose doing talking to the referee, hisssssss etc.

I haven’t imagined the past, have I? Football was never this childish, this hysterical or this poisonous. Was it?

Without wishing to be completely absorbed into a halcyon days/sepia-tinged reverie — I’m from Liverpool, but there are limits — just go and Google the words “Souness” and “Steau Bucharest”. That, my friends, is a stamp.

Can and Skrtel jumped to their feet immediately to, ahem, debate Costa’s behaviour. Those skirmishes book-ended the pathetic screech for Costa’s “obvious” penalty, because Chelsea wouldn’t dive.

Apparently. On and on it goes.

The FA ban was all about them being seen to do something, as there will be a shitstorm the day Costa actually does hurt someone. And he will.

I feel sorry for Eden Hazard who had an absolute blinder but saw it flagrantly ignored because good football doesn’t sell.

It was actually a pretty decent game, with Liverpool’s toothless attack costing them dear in the end.

It was another narrow yet galling defeat, the kind that transitional teams try so hard to pick the positives from, but it’s getting a bit much now.

Some of us attempt to deal with The Chelsea Question with an affected, “Who, them? Whatever” nonchalance that is fooling less and less people, the more big games we lose to them.

If only we had some kind of goal scorer, somebody whose expertise lay in finishing off all of Coutinho and Sterling’s good work. What? We’ve got one? Well, why didn’t you say so before?

The week ended on the upbeat, with the return of Sturridge and the instant difference he makes to Liverpool’s football. Remember when Suarez bit Ivanovic (shame he didn’t bite harder, he said bitterly) and was banned for 10 games? No problem, because Sturridge was still there and we won most of them.

It’s when Daniel goes missing that we have our biggest traumas.

The December before last’s three costly defeats and this season’s woeful start all have one connection; the absence of the God-botherer.

West Ham were so very Allardyce, psyched to a point where even Downing starts fights for no reason. Nolan and Carroll tried to mix it but Carroll wound up injuring himself. No, honestly, he did. I was shocked too.

It was another slow first half, getting to be a bit of a recurring theme at Anfield now.

It hasn’t caused much damage of late but it’s something that needs fixing because not everyone gives you a second bite at the cherry.

Sterling and Coutinho were far more dangerous than last week. It helps the little magician enormously when the chances he carves out get the finish they deserve. That’s where Sturridge hopefully comes to the fore.

Nice goal, nice story. Pointing to a God that’s just put you out of the game for five months registers a 9 on the ridiculous scale, but football still has more than its fair share of voodoo.

Costa thinks big dollops of snide help his game. Mourinho hasn’t changed from his Porto days, he still loves a siege.

Suarez has been banned from 40 games in four years but we still patiently await the next disgrace.

So if Sturridge thinks God is helping him out, who are we to quibble? Whatever works, Amen.