To paraphrase Brando, “Stick with us baby, we’re the fellas you came in with”.
You stubbornly pretend we’ve not been lucky if you want to. Why bother? It’s fun just watching everyone else squirm with resentment. Besides, it’ll vanish soon enough so enjoy it while it lasts.
Salzburg’s comeback brought a wry smile. I’d wanted to write about how Liverpool never do ‘that’ anymore and was relieved I’d not made a fool of myself.
Looking back, we used to do something that stupid once a month in the early Klopp years.
If you thought they’d been complacent in Sheffield…
Perhaps it was the Roma tie, leading 5-0 and ending up 7-6, that finally persuaded the manager there may be a slight problem after all.
It still feels like Van Dijk’s increased influence had more to do with solving it than any kind of masterplan higher up.
We go helter-skelter for even more goals. That’s who we are, it’s what got us here in the first place and what Liverpool stay true to.
Anyone capable of scoring those first two goals in midweek needn’t worry over much, but City will be back in omnipotent stride soon, surely? A tweak or two will still be required.
You even get Gomez and Henderson trying stupid little flicks when they need to stay in their lane. Maybe Klopp is finally getting wise, as neither started against Leicester.
Trent survived, probably because there’s nobody else, but his penchant for cross-field passes and self-admiration could make anybody impatient and trigger-happy.
There are concerns about both full backs, but I’d be thinking the same about Luiz at Arsenal. 90% of the time you’re on the front foot, taking the game to the opponent.
It’s those rare times you’re on a level playing field where the more pragmatic approach might be healthier.
That isn’t Klopp, and no matter the recent defensive improvements (last season certainly, not this one so far) you’re just going to have to strap in and enjoy the ride.
As our team scales the heights, we sometimes forget to savour the excitement which made us watch football in the first place.
Everyone’s too damned practical these days.
Winning certainly helps, add a slice of luck to polish off the occasional awkward game.
Outsiders can cry all they like, and they will. They can’t deny reality. Enter Brendan Rodgers.
I don’t dislike him necessarily; it’s just hard to keep a straight face.
And I should now; I tried for three years and failed abjectly. He’s still at it of course, the ersatz motivational soundbites. It’s always felt like he was selling something, usually himself.
He was blathering about not enjoying “the journey” he was on at Liverpool towards the end, implying he got off voluntarily. Mate, you didn’t have the right fare and got thrown off.
He benefitted greatly from a remarkable Suarez/Sturridge combination, and may be doing it again with Vardy — until he has one of his sulk droughts which have coincidentally seen off three managers already. Try talking about your journey then.
Tough old game, though. As with Sheffield United, you need to put your chances away otherwise you can be robbed right at the end.
I won’t lie about the penalty. I’ll just claim it was karma for Choudhury’s shocking challenge on Salah which, of course, Rodgers defended.
“He’s not that kind of player”? The usual disgraceful, one-eyed subterfuge.
I went home hoping the pen was pure fraudulence, anticipating the nation’s bilious outpourings. I was not to be disappointed on either count.
Despite an amazing recent record, we’re not playing as well as that would indicate.
Which usually goes one of two ways; you get the performances the results deserve or get the results the performances deserve.
With Old Trafford next, I know where I’m placing my bets.