Terrace talk: Liverpool - Optimism is a word banished this week

You’re supposed to love life on the edge. I get that, I truly do. Sometimes it’d be nice to have a week off though.

Whose team scores five goals in a game then get their fans so stressed they’re yowling for the final whistle?

Who beats the best team in the country three times in a season and draws 0-0 at home to two teams who’ll probably be relegated?

No, you can’t have three guesses.

Almost an hour’s worth of unfettered genius ripped the back out of Roma. I’ve been going to Anfield a while, and not seen anything like it.

You want to say what followed was a one-off but face it; it’s not. The rollercoaster analogy has been overused under Klopp but people still seem shocked when it starts plummeting downwards.

Each cocky overtone about the second leg triggered a searing, painful dread: “They won’t keep us out over there”; why not? Stoke just did.

“Barcelona weren’t ready for them but we will be”; ready for the hoof over the top for Dzeko to score from three yards?

Ready for the cheap penalty that completely changes the tie? Ready for the near-post corner?

Think I’m on the verge of spotting the flaws in that theory.

Players still picking up injuries at the exact time everyone predicted they would, after being told in January we didn’t really need reinforcements.

Paul Lambert left Anfield once again with the Pardew-smugness of a man who can’t believe he keeps getting away with it.

That’s Celtic, Norwich, Villa, Wolves and Stoke he’s brought here now and never lost once.

Others keep telling me my superstitions are sooooo quaint, with no validity whatsoever. Keep telling yourselves that, fools.

Salah had a rare off day on Saturday. He was majestic against Roma. It was weird how he wouldn’t even look happy after the goals, just in case he upset the ‘people’ that put Sean Cox on the critical list.

You hear about things like this and people say “wrong place wrong time”. Sean was standing minding his own business on the main road outside the Kop. When was that ever the wrong place?

This was planned like a strategic hit; a gesture to prove God knows what. Hire 50 psychiatrists for all the good it’ll do you to try and understand these macho defectives.

I got there seconds after it all happened, seconds away from them pointing me out and saying “he’ll do”. Chilling.

In the aftermath there was a disgraceful tabloid smear claiming we were to blame, snide social media inevitably climbed aboard, making weird comparisons between dents on a ten-ton bus and an attempted murder.

Heysel and “always the victim” are their go-to argument of course, it never fails. Then Stoke come to town with their litany of stodgy Scouse bantz. Stoke, seriously.

So you’re standing on the Kop, red-faced and sweary, urging them to enjoy the Championship when they slither back to their six-fingered Brexit hellhole.

And now you’re part of the whole maelstrom, generalising like crazy and part of the problem not the solution.

A few bevvies followed by time to reflect and it becomes just a game of football again. Weird what we go through and seemingly impossible to rise above the insanity of it all.

Getting to the final would be great. I’d hate to be in Klopp’s trainers if he became the man who was winning a tie 5-0 and lost.

Ultimately you just hope everyone gets back home in one piece and Sean gets better. There’s another angle; that Roma shouldn’t win because bad people shouldn’t thrive, though in a post-Trump world that gets almost impossible to believe.

The savages rule and life becomes even more depressing as a result. When Roberto was making it 5-0, who’d have ever thought your life might be a lot healthier without football – but what else have we got?

Maybe that’s part of the problem.

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