Terrace Talk: Five down at half-time in Stoke? How?

The hissy fits with Sterling were supposed to deflect attention away from the club’s deficiencies. Ha! Good luck with that after yesterday.

Presumably there also won’t be any fans giving City or Chelsea grief now along the lines of “oh, anyone can cash a cheque and succeed”.

Liverpool took their squillions last summer and practically burnt them; maybe the yanks are big fans of KLF but considered sending one million up in smoke pasty-Brit cowardice. In America, son, we do everything bigger.

Liverpool's 6-1 dismantling at the hands of Stoke was their biggest Premier League defeat since 1992. #SSNHQ pic.twitter.com/cFYWuOc2im

— Sky Sports News (@SkySportsNews) May 24, 2015

We knew Suarez was important. We knew better things wouldn’t happen overnight — but this? Five down at half time in Stoke? STOKE! That’s just rank incompetence. You know what a scientist would say? If the loss of one player causes this much grief maybe you weren’t as good as you thought?

To be fair, it was two because Sturridge is pretty decent but the lack of planning for the possibility he might hurt himself was stunningly inept.

Outsiders reasonably ask why we were so desperate to get Champions League football just to crawl on the earth once in it. It’s the money, stupid. Why else would they go through all that? Why else do they do anything?

It’s where supporters of a certain age struggle with the game nowadays. Cash was never irrelevant but its relentless acquisition spread through the game like an uncontrollable virus until you even get fans speaking of “sell-on value” and other monstrosities.

I know what you’re thinking: “Have a bad day, did we?” Of course that’s a factor but tell me (whoever you support) that you read about Sterling’s agent and your fingers didn’t curl into a fist.

Something money can’t buy is a pair of balls.

Liverpool capitulated in nearly every big game they played this season, even a Wembley showdown with a team managed by Tim Sherwood, then saved the absolute pits for last. By May the Reds can’t even keep humiliation from the door, the self-pity so palpable it can be sliced.

Are we really this bad? Well, a few kids might flourish and turn out to be something. There was a period of results when Rodgers hinted he could make lemonade from lemons but you feel that skill will be especially useful next season (if he survives). Lemons is all we ever buy.

The hangover from last season just kept throbbing throughout this one. 25 years now Liverpool have rolled this rock up the hill, only to slip (literally) near the top and go tumbling to the bottom again. Did Sisyphus ever think “enough of this, I’ll try basket-weaving”?

The fans are expected to pay through the nose, shout themselves hoarse, turn up on whatever damn day and whatever time they say. There’s no help from anybody. You’d need to be saint or simpleton not to get riled by it sometimes.

Maybe there’s another South American genius/lunatic glowering somewhere, ready to provide Liverpool with the combustion that’s clearly necessary to make any of this work.

If Liverpool’s history, even its anaemic modern chapter, tells us anything it’s that something is always around the corner. The fans know it isn’t easy, they just feel it shouldn’t be as hard as this pathetic gaggle of misfits make it look sometimes.

We might even get a manager in who thinks strikers have a part to play in proceedings. Y’know, a visionary? Top-scorer Gerrard might have a rethink, perhaps.

Or the owners might get antsy and put us on the market? “Good fixer-upper, careless or clueless previous owners, seen better days with potential for adequacy”.

Or just bulldoze the lot and erect a children’s playground. Someone should get some fun out of it, at least.

“Have a bad day, did we?” Oh, sod off.