Second favourites for the title, 16 goals in 6 games, playing brilliant football – still can’t keep a clean sheet though, can we?
Look, it’s my column and I’ll cry if I want to but it’s all beginning to resemble that question asked of George Best when they found him in bed with Miss World; “George, where did it all go wrong?”
The way this Liverpool team attacks it doesn’t look like anyone can keep us out and if the odd stumble at the back goes uncorrected then what of it?
We’re fast approaching the point where negativity is simply a mask, ancient voodoo warding off evil spirits or attempting to soften the inevitable disappointments to come.
Even the best of us can succumb. Klopp was scolding us because singing his name at inappropriate moments means the other team will score, apparently.
In Chez Kelly it’s another year of not shaving on the day of a game, certain clothing to be worn and not looking at a certain landmark before arriving at Anfield.
For God’s sake, you’re a 57-year-old man whose childhood heroes are dropping like flies throughout 2016 (always a bad sign you’re edging closer to St Peter yourself).
After the cruel collapses of recent years you’d think this nonsense would have vanished long ago. No chance.
“It was only Hull”; like it was only Arsenal and only Leicester. It was only Chelsea too now, since Conte’s team looked decidedly ropey at Arsenal as well.
Those who know, know; beating Hull convincingly may become the most important game of the season.
Many a Red had this down as a struggle, a Burnley-style meander into complacency and a bullet straight to the foot.
Not a bit of it. Mane and Firmino still running rings round everyone, Lallana and Henderson adding lots of nous to their clockwork mouse impressions.
As for Milner, the numerous predictions of failure and chaos now look incredibly stupid. What a season he’s having so far. I’ll gladly eat as much humble pie as anybody. What I loved about him on Saturday was his coolness before the second penalty. Sturridge clearly wanted it but Milner just went “give it here, soft lad”.
All business, no messing about trying to gift a struggling player an ego boost. Besides, three-goal leads might still not be enough with this lot. Milner’s 100% Liverpool, to his fingertips.
Hull were never in it. Once they’d have been lashed into shape by the obsessive detestation of Steve Bruce, but Mike Phelan isn’t quite there yet. He might be now, of course.
The word “only” keeps cropping up. It was only Hull, only six games, only September, but if you can’t enjoy this you’re dead inside.
It’s not just about how they attack. Whenever Hull gained possession it was regarded as impertinence, even insulting, and there was no rest until Liverpool got it back. It’s exhausting just watching them.
There are lots of wayward shots but that seems to be by design. Stands to reason some are bound to connect eventually and Klopp’s not going to rap your knuckles so long as you had a go and gave everything you could.
Coutinho’s early miss would have turned the atmosphere testy and fretful a year ago, now it’s a shrug and when’s the next one coming?
You know it doesn’t take much to turn talk of Liverpool’s resurgence into deafening hollers. It’s like the snowball rolled down the mountain, no way of stopping it. I’d normally be the one standing against Hope, just out of sheer miserabilist instinct. It never makes the inevitable let-down easier to deal with to be honest, so why bother? Enjoy it while you can. There are still improvements needed. Coutinho has to make his star-turn-ratio one in two rather than the one in four it currently is, and that league clean sheet can’t come soon (or often) enough.
That’s just nit-picking, really.
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