Terrace Talk: Whatever happened this would always go down as an outstanding Liverpool season

This would always have been the hardest column I’ve ever had to write.

The disparity between the emotions, one way or t’other, as the final whistle blew on this amazing season couldn’t be measured.

Two hours later, my editor was asking “got any words yet?” None that are printable, no. Sorry if this lacks the appropriate gravitas for what happened.

I’ve feigned flippancy towards the world’s obvious ill-will towards us, with diminishing believability.

I understand it to an extent. Fans of many clubs recall when their best team was thwarted in its ambitions by the Reds, 29 years, 29 seconds, you never forget that.

I read about karma, but people my age who lived through the dominant years won’t ever regret them. I had the time of my life, but it’d be nice to watch fresher generations wallow in their own triumph. There’s no feeling like being number one.

City win stuff now and are building support for sure, but you’re far less likely to run across one of their gloating fans.

Whatever happened this would always go down as an outstanding Liverpool season. Those who fretted about Coutinho’s departure were soon mollified by the performances of the players he paid for; Van Dijk and Alisson. They’ve improved the team immeasurably.

Fabinho was a slow burner but emerged as a big talent.

His performance against Barcelona was a masterclass; getting unfairly booked after 15 minutes against a team of divers didn’t even phase him.

There were tiny signs from Keita towards the end, a full season of that may take this team onto greater heights. If that were possible…

Summer may involve strengthening the back-up rather than the first team, depending on whether we keep everyone — which isn’t a given.

We’ve spent the best part of that title drought losing players to clubs that could promise success. It feels like Klopp’s in a position to change that.

The man himself shows so much devotion to his ‘project’ that it’s inconceivable he would up sticks and start another.

But there are many things about this season that seemed inconceivable. They still happened. This title race has inspired all manner of hyperbole, but it really wasn’t that exciting for the uninvolved.

The title has now been won by teams who got 93, 100 and 98 points.

Thrilling races stem from twists and turns, surely; not two straight, relentless lines disappearing into the mist?

So when the fateful moment came? Nothing, nada. Zilch. Just a chilling numbness. It was a repeat of five years ago, a day where we didn’t know what would happen and yet simultaneously knew exactly what would happen.

Brighton triggered scenes for a while. Bewildered scenes, when different parts of the ground found out similar news, but others thought they were cheering even more goals.

A quick dart to the Kop concourse confirmed we shouldn’t have been as ecstatic as we’d allowed ourselves to be. Nice while it lasted, though.

The performance was jaded, Barcelona took a lot out of us. It was a surprise Wolves didn’t score. Their fans weren’t bothered. Mancunian for a day, they had their fun. It’ll be remembered.

We’ve known all year long how us finishing top would be greeted with national woe but if no-one cared about us, it’d be worse. Far worse.

Sadio was the main man again, an unsung hero. If anything, the team had been unsettled by the Brighton commotion, but it was still nice to get the win. We can always claim we kept City honest, if that’s the word I’m looking for (it’s not). Forgive me; the bitterness will pass.

And this season’s got added time, again. That’s what Klopp has turned Liverpool into, from the lumpen grade-z clay he inherited.

For that, I feel triumphant. We all should. For now, I’ll drown my sorrows. 97 points, brilliant team, brilliant manager, another Champions League final.

Sorrows...