It’s bad enough going through this with Liverpool, now we do it for someone else’s games. I can’t take this much longer. Thankfully I don’t have to.
The first 20 minutes at Porto looked like exaggerated fears might become justified after all. That’s the beauty of this team; a couple of goals fixes anything. That’s the hideous hope your front three gives you.
Klopp’s problem is keeping them healthy, keeping them happy. There’s also the small matter of quality back-up and (if suitable) how to keep them satisfied whilst playing second fiddle. Squads win trophies now.
With the modern game’s physical requirements, we’ve been damn lucky with Salah, Firmino and Mane. Porto had no answers, anyway.
Time to put our invincible record against Barcelona to the test, then. Perhaps it’s elderly bravado but if we beat them when they had peak-Cruyff, anything’s possible. Maybe I’m just deluding myself.
City and Spurs played out a classic; for anyone whose team also knocked them out of Europe once, it was funny hearing the cockneys subjected to the interminable Mancunian screech about unfairness. I thought we were always supposed to be the victims?
Bad officials last year, corrupt VAR now. When will poor, downtrodden City catch a break? Of course, when they get away with a blatant handball in the league days later, there’s not-so-eerie silence.
Do intense mathematics always end with a ‘beautiful’ mind? Haters working out formulas that involved Everton handing United points, meaning the latter could coast against City.
Wanting Brighton to be sucked into relegation trouble so they’ll fight City tooth and nail on day 38 (if anything matters by then), but that only gave Cardiff extra impetus. Hoping Wolves would be in the cup final, so they’d rest up against us the week before.
Some wanted Spurs to lose in Europe and then wreak vengeance on Saturday. No wonder John Nash went crazy.
I’m not sure when “enjoy it, let the chips fall wherever” stopped being a thing. Probably when Pickford handed Origi a goal from one inch out and we began believing this might all be possible.
We bellyached relentlessly when Hicks, Gillett and Hodgson dragged us into a seemingly permanent drift into nowhere. During these fraught times, I often wonder whether that might’ve been preferable.
Liverpool’s niggly relationship with Warnock over time meant Sunday had extra edge. Him saving his current cloggers from relegation at our expense would’ve been unbearable. He still blames Benitez for previous woes. It’s probably something the current manager and players aren’t aware of.
They’ll have assumed Cardiff were desperate anyway, though, and yet there was something oddly nonchalant about the start. Given the heat, be charitable and say they waited for Cardiff to blow themselves out. It’s a risky strategy though. If ex-Blue Niasse had connected with his shot…
Our scorers. 👌🔴 pic.twitter.com/3xd7DsoHm1— Liverpool FC (@LFC) April 21, 2019
Salah was poor and it’s often a special kind of bad where he doesn’t get anything right. You don’t wish ill on any player, especially Fabinho, but it was lucky Milner had to come on because Mo’s penalty would’ve found row Z.
Ah yes, the penalty. In Warnockworld your centre-half must be allowed to wrap his arms around a striker. Forget the fall (fat chance obviously), it’s a penalty without that but there’s no talking to some.
It’s obviously our style to go full pelt whatever the score, but it causes no little anxiety. A bit of possession against a team that had no other plan but to sit deep? Beyond us. That chance from their corner, good grief.
We were possibly coasting with extra European games in mind. It might even be worse against Huddersfield.
Anyway, I’m 60 on Wednesday. If anyone from Old Trafford wants to give me a little gift…
Thought not. Not sure they could even if they wanted.