Is it me or are these international intervals getting longer? Maybe the reason they’re called ‘breaks’ is you end up wanting to break everything in the house.
With Brexit mayhem causing parliamentary upheaval, politicians also sighed with relief when the real opium of the masses makes its welcome return. In Liverpool we stretch our “separate country” ethos a bit too far sometimes, but in times like these can you blame us?
All that’s really happened is a bizarre, charisma-free slugfest involving Shearer and Owen. Even that happened too soon to exploit a Reds v Newcastle connection, the idiots.
Not that Owen really belongs to us anymore, for several reasons. As with Souness, you need to focus on the playing career and eject everything else, but then nuance is a dirty word nowadays.
Saturday was the start of a congested schedule, the usual feast after famine. The implied risk in resting key players thereby underestimating opponents was unnerving enough — for 20 minutes or so.
Liverpool haven’t lost a league game since the start of 2019. It’s September now, and it doesn’t feel natural at all. It’s beginning to seem less like a sport and more like a Harlem Globetrotters exhibition.
Be very careful not to complain about it of course, as you know it can (and will) go pear-shaped soon enough. That may explain the nervy “never in doubt” bravado of many afterwards.
Steve Bruce has a decent record against us. It won’t seem like much written down but considering the clubs he’s been with he’s no right to a ‘record’ at all.
Newcastle at Anfield is now a television staple, stemming from two games over 20 years ago. It’s the kind of lazy, lightning-rod scheduling that contaminates TV sport now, added to the thoughtlessness involved in dragging thousands of Geordies down to Anfield by midday.
Ask how Britain can tolerate the government it does, then witness how everyone simply falls into line with something like this. Automatons who’ll put up with anything, because our betters know best (despite clear evidence to the contrary).
The match itself was decent enough. We took a while shaking off international torpor but once we get moving, we’re unstoppable. You feel sure the likes of Napoli or Chelsea won’t gift us half an hour for cobweb removal, but again that’s nit-picking. during a time of plenty.
Like with our second; jubilant obviously, but whatever happened to needing to be mad to be a goalkeeper? Risk a boot in the face to stop a goal? Interferes with the modelling gig, presumably, which is the kind of archaic snark we oldies spout with (alarming) regularity. A team containing Origi indicated Klopp expected little resistance from Newcastle. There’s an odd feeling towards the Belgian now; gratitude for last season’s exploits, certainly, but a curt dismissal of admittedly limited gifts.
He was on his back within a minute, the fans behind me sharpening their satirical axe. I’m sure they weren’t alone. Firmino’s premature return restored order, party tricks in excelsis during a one-sided second half, but it did make you wonder what we’ll be like without certain individuals against better teams.
Even Fabinho, previously regarded as dispensable, has the look of someone who’d be missed. Fixture congestion will make everyone question every alteration from now on.
You don’t even want to think about losing van Dijk. Each game you’re just sniggering at how effortless it all seems, he’s in another dimension. I blinked, and he went from two yards behind their forward to two yards ahead of him. How does that even happen?
He took a shot full in the face, did a Scooby Doo double-take and carried on regardless. Perhaps he’ll welcome the increased challenges to come soon and with Manchester City toppled by Norwich, maybe this can still be a competitive sport after all?
Football in general (Liverpool in particular) dictates that such complacent, cocky gushing will get punished eventually.