Terrace Talk: Man City - We're no longer a lame Anfield duck

Those fans at Anfield in 1981, 2003, and 2021 are the only ones to see City triumph on this side of Stanley Park in the last four decades, but this pulsating draw brought Guardiola’s men tantalisingly close to adding another to that all too brief list

Mon, 04 Oct, 2021 - 07:00

Simon Curtis

The poet Mark Doty once talked of the courage to love against the certitude of loss and, although he was not thought to be pronouncing on Manchester City’s 129-year history of execrable performances in Liverpool, you would be hard-pressed to ignore the Anfield Allegory.

He did not, as far as we know, write about the imperfectly shaped egg that is Manchester City, out of which have emerged any number of lame Anfield ducks down the years, ducks who have consistently waddled into the killing fields and keeled over with nothing more audible than a quiet quack.

After this display of pyrotechnics, however, City seem set to make a bigger noise in 2021-22.

Here is a side already done and dusted with Spurs (a), Leicester (a), Chelsea (a), and now the ever-toxic Liverpool (a).

Despite the hardship start offered to them by the fixture computer, they still find themselves ahead of Manchester United and nestled in comfortably behind real title contenders, Chelsea and Liverpool.

Last year’s stunning victory in Anfield’s cavernous silence lanced one of a thousand boils, but it looked on the face of it like one of those strange little results that occasionally happen, a Blackburn at Old Trafford, a Hull at Arsenal, those odd events that have to occur to enable us to talk of the law of averages with any kind of authority.

How to explain this then?

A first half of growing dominance, reducing Liverpool to a brand of imprecise speculation seldom seen in these parts, had failed to bring its rewards. Would we see a second similar to the one at Stamford Bridge or a la Paris Saint-Germain, the former bringing just rewards, the latter cold comfort for a night’s brave toil?

In effect a bit of both was delivered on a platter so overflowing with goodies it was impossible not to feel a touch nauseous by the end. We had been spoilt. Rich produce like this brings a concomitant risk of high blood pressure and wooziness. The head-splitting speed and grace of it all had had an adverse effect on referee Paul Tierney’s delicate mind-body balance too.

Ignoring James Milner’s heavy foul on the indefatigable Bernardo Silva on the grounds that the Liverpool man would have been forced to enjoy the warm tickle of the Anfield bubble bath, had Tierney had the courage to wave a second yellow at him, the man in the muddle was as caught up in the whirling vortex of effervescent football as the rest of us.

As he waved away protests like a man who has eaten one too many chicken drumsticks and now has to explain the lake of satay sauce on his shirt, Tierney instead aimed his yellow card at Pep Guardiola, busy going up in smoke on the touchline in a flurry of tanned arms and airborne garments.

City had carved out chance after chance, with Bernardo’s 60-metre seven-man lone slalom and Ederson’s millimetre-precise punt both setting up Phil Foden, who squandered each one.

That the two misses did nothing to cloud the transparent virtuosity of the youngster emphasised just how good he had been in a City performance that was remarkable not only for the post Chelsea/PSG energy levels on show, but also a belligerent unwillingness to lie down and desist each time the match looked to be edging away from them.

If you could concentrate in the maelstrom of action, this beautifully savage contest was busy revealing other hints for the rest of the season: That this Liverpool side can be counted among the three serious title contenders; that Chelsea may need to find similar levels of passion to stay with them; and that both will need to reach improbable heights to go the pace with Pep’s 2021-22 City vintage, be it strikerless or not.

Having removed the certitude of loss from their minds, even Anfield is beginning to be tamed by the Catalan’s excellently drilled side.

The lame quacking of the olden days has ceased. The duck is taking to the air from Anfield’s killing fields nicely intact and good luck to those who must attempt to fly at the same height.