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Discussion in 'General LFC Discussion' started by El Madrigal, Aug 6, 2011.
Listened to the Kenny podcast today. It was excellent. Interesting comment from a journalist on Noel White. Similar comments made by Noel on Rafa. Bruce Grobbelaar made a comment on why Kenny left though not sure I would take much notice myself.
This is the first in a series of free audio documentaries, brought to you by The Anfield Wrap, reliving significant days in the history of Liverpool Football Club, in the words of those who were there to witness.
Part one of “TAW Moments In Time” tells the story of Kenny Dalglish’s resignation as manager of Liverpool, one of the most groundbreaking couple of days in the club’s history, with the circumstances surrounding his departure in February 1991 still being debated and discussed to this day.
That was fantastic.
Anyone know the Dublin lad that is appearing on it over the past few weeks?
With things so tight for top four, when European football returns next week, and when the Mancs had laughably fell to the hands of Rafa Benitez, only a win was good enough today.
Any win. Anyhow. Any way.
This was any win. Routine. Scrappy and scruffy. But peppered with the magic dust of two of our superstars. Mo tees up Firmino first. Bobby brilliantly returns the favour for the second.
It’s 20 for Bobby and 29 for Mo. A phenomenal return by any standards and a show that this side is a threat to anyone at any time. And also a show those two are what I said they are above: superstars. Top talents. Great players.
It was a demonstration of what Southampton didn’t have. For all they had of the ball there was little end product, little real threat. From Liverpool it was the opposite - not enough keeping the ball and taking the sting out at times perhaps, but loads of threat - and the quality when it counted. It could and should have been more.
Southampton might have thought they had a little bit of a sign over the Reds after getting themselves a decent recent record versus Liverpool at home. And of course we had some of the pantomime baddy stuff from the crowd because we bought a few of their players.
But none of that mattered. Liverpool did the job, got the points and have climbed back to third, only two points behind the lads losing at St James’ Park today.
That it’s not a swashbuckling display matters none. It’s just about the winning. Getting results. And staying in place for when it’s all over in May. Champions League football is vital to this club.
Now for Porto. Another professional job there, another clean sheet away from home, and who is betting against The Reds then to not get the job done at Anfield?
Up the professional Reds.
And breathe. 5-0. Five nil. The quarter-finals are blowing kisses at us on Valentines Day. And we’re winking back. It's on. Go and buy them a bevy.
That was as comfortable as an away leg in a Champions League knockout game as you will ever see.
With a last-16 opportunity came worry. We heard of Porto’s pedigree in Portugal, unbeaten in the league all season. We were told of teams falling foul there in Europe. Of them having nous and experience. And of Liverpool lacking that after so long away from this stage of the competition.
No-one told the lads in orange the script. The Fab Four is now The Tremendous Trio. And what a threesome it is. The stuff of fantasy.
Liverpool were a wonderful blend of assertive and aggressive from the off. The day-glo boys were brighter in every sense from the kick off – and even before. Watch the handshakes again. The Reds are chests out and bold, their opponents unsure and nervous, hiding in tracksuit tops.
The match played out in much the same way. When Porto tried to test Liverpool early on they found Arnold aggressive and van Dijk in no mood. The Dutchman was also spraying passes to put Liverpool on the front foot. When needed to defend he was always in the right place. Lovren similar. Thou shall not pass.
In midfield, the fight and aggression set the tone and put Liverpool on their way. For the first goal Wijnaldum is high, winning it, fighting for it, trying shots, and it’s his industry that tees up Mane.
For the second it’s his midfield mate Milner, working, winning it with aggression, cracking a brilliant shot and leaving it to magnificent Mo Salah to make it 30 for the season with a goal straight from the playground show off.
After the ball cannons off the post, that juggle, that header, that finish – it was a lad playing with his mates at playtime – someone with no pressure on them, all the confidence in the world.
Nothing shakes Salah. Mo isn’t a man who would chicken in Kiev.
The third is wonderful again – another Bobby dazzler in the build up with the backheel, a lovely ball from Salah, and a second for Mane, the man who needed it most for his mojo.
The speed and finesse of Liverpool’s play when the trigger is pulled on a counter will leave managers all around shifting in their seats. Who wants to try to stop this attack? How do you do it?
Mane’s confidence was clear after getting among the goals and he feeds Milner to square for Firmino for four before adding the fifth himself with the weight of worries lifted.
A hat-trick for the man misfiring is more to be cheerful about on a night of joy served up by the rampant Reds.
Liverpool’s previous wins in Portugal came on the way to glory in this competition. We’re a long way from that, but dare to dream? Why not? You’re weird if you don’t.
The Reds are leading scorers in this competition this season and that is Porto’s heaviest defeat in their history at home in the European Cup.
It might be Valentines but no other team wants to get in bed with Liverpool right now.
Up the I’d neck if you I could Reds.
It was four, it could have been five, six or seven. Moyes was Moyes, West Ham were West Ham and Liverpool were the Liverpool that gets the job done with the minimum of fuss.
When the three usual suspects of Salah, Firmino and Mane are among the goalscorers you can see where the headlines will head - particularly now the Reds have smashed through the 100 goals barrier for the season.
But while the boys who bring the goals did just that again what was just as satisfying was the graft put in to make it happen from those less revered by the mainstream media.
I’m talking Andy Robertson, James Milner and Alex Oxlade Chamberlain for starters. All set the tone with grit and battling quality that made sure the points were only headed one way. The team is maturing match by match - more character, more control and of course more goals. You can see before your eyes that they back themselves. And confidence and condition is high at just the right time.
In the past - too many times - Liverpool have failed to seize the chance to put pressure on rivals when the fixture list has offered up a opportunity. Today they were taking it, there was never any doubt.
Up to second then. Twitchy bum time for the Mancs and their gobshite manager. Media vultures ready to pounce at the hint of an Old Trafford ‘crisis’. Nice when it’s someone else isn’t it?
For us though, a good day and good times ahead. Second place to secure. A Champions League quarter final all but certain. And a side now that over two seasons is consistently competing in the part of the Premier League that it needs to be. Talk them up, they’re good you know.
The Reds are coming up the hill.
Job done. Again.
And Liverpool are getting better and better at getting the job done - at just the right stage of the season.
So many times, spanning decades, sides have come to Anfield, defending deep and defending resolutely, and leaving clutching something for their efforts.
Right now though, that isn’t enough. Liverpool are finding a way - even when the referee can’t be arsed to give the most blatant red card of all time - Liverpool are finding a way.
The Reds can look down from second tonight knowing they deserve to be there. They’re the second best team in the country right now. And this weekend and next can seal the deal.
Today was more guts than grace for the large part but that’s no bad thing. It’s serving Liverpool well that’s there’s an energy and desire behind everything they do because opposition teams must match that. And more often than not, they can’t.
Today it’s Salah and Mane finding the net but the deadlock is broken by Chamberlain’s desire and persistence teeing up the Egyptian king.
The second is plated up by Firmino, another who worked his bollocks off - again.
Elsewhere, Trent had a cracker, Robertson was industrious, Henderson tireless and what a save from Karius.
Newcastle for their part put a shift in. But a shift isn’t enough to stop this Liverpool side right now.
It just feels like it’s clicking at the right time for these Reds. There’s a focus and a fearlessness about Liverpool. They fancy themselves - and so they should; for this season and for next.
The Porto job is there to be finished on Tuesday but Klopp can keep legs fresh with the cushion from the first leg and then it’s to the streets of Salford to do battle with the bus parker.
I fancy us. Why wouldn’t you?
Up the Reds.
We’ve conquered all of Europe
We’re never gonna stop
From Paris down to Turkey
We’ve won the fucking lot
Bob Paisley and Bill Shankly
The fields of Anfield Road
We are loyal supporters
And we come from Liverpool
Allez Allez Allez
Allez Allez Allez
To be honest that was the highlight. The best new song we’ve had for ages being sung over and over. Like everyone was having a nice practice for when Liverpool’s big night at Anfield comes along.
Because it’s coming. It’s coming soon. Greet the bus. Sing and shout til you’re hoarse. Pyro, colour, banners and flags. For the first time in nine years we’ve got a quarter final in the Champions League to look forward to. It’s alright that isn’t it? It’s Liverpool, that.
But, tonight, on and off the pitch, that’s what it was - a practice.
Liverpool stayed professional, worked hard without going mad and some players who needed minutes got them.
Karius made saves, Henderson snarled a fella in injury time after decking him, but it was all pretty tame stuff. Porto didn’t have enough even with the changes to our 11.
In fact arguably the biggest drama of the evening was waiting to see if Mo Salah was going to wave when everyone went through his repertoire of songs as he warmed up on the touchline. He took his time, the playful boos were coming any second, but he did in the end. Well in, lad.
And, by the way, what a first touch when he did come on. Mo Salah, la. The Egyptian king doesn’t need time to find the pace of the game.
The main thing, if we’re all honest, is the boss lads have all emerged unscathed, ready to battle at Saturday dinnertime. What a lift a win there will be. Imagine the momentum then.
Best of all: they want it. The players sense something.
The controlled aggression bubbling under in this squad is there to see - even in a game that was more done than the last roast chicken left on the hot counter at the Asda. They’re all itching for it. They all want to be a part of it. Because you would, wouldn’t you?
Players, like fans, want these matches, these adventures. And like us they’ll be chattering until the draw about who they want in the quarters, the semis and the final. Why not? Dare to dream and all that.
First though, them. And him. And that shithouse brand of football. He’ll love a point. We want a win. And we can get it.
Bring on your Manchester United, bring on your Cockneys by the score.
I think we need to keep our heads after this one.
It’s never nice to go there and lose. It’s never nice to experience crowing Mancs. It’s never nice to witness the smug smirk of Jose Mourinho.
And when you feel you’ve been diddled by dithering officials that doesn’t help either.
But our season isn’t defined by what happened today. They still have City to play. There are twists and turns ahead that mean we could still grab second. And of course we still have the Champions League to come. Heads need to stay in place. We’re still a good side. Embrace the context of the season so far.
The match is defined by mistakes. You don’t want to give a Jose Mourinho side something to sit on but we did just that. Two long balls. Lovren bullied twice. Trent indecisive twice. Two goals.
Quite why this means we have to dive on said players and smother social media with snide I don’t know. It’s frustrating but it doesn’t undo what has come before.
Cry-arsing about officials can sound like just that yet today did feel like there was little going Liverpool’s way. Penalty shouts. Rashford flirting with a second yellow over and over. None of it went how we wanted it.
Performance-wise, we can point at the defenders mentioned. We can say Chamberlain struggled and Mane was frustrating. We can also see how Salah was successfully shackled.
They dogged it: they made it a scrap, they time-wasted, blagged injury, used all the dark arts. All to be expected. All allowed. All part of the game. And all not worth your breath.
However much we bang on about how average they are – and they look it – their home record is admirable and the manager already has two trophies under his arm. All today can be is another lesson. Another bit of experience.
Trent is a teenager who will learn from this. He’ll be back. He’s a talent. Lovren…well maybe he’ll be subject to an upgrade. For now though, he’s ours and he’s wearing our shirt. For now he’ll play again and we should support him.
Horrible. Frustrating. But the end of the world as we know it? No. The Reds will be back. Don’t let the bastards drag you down. Four league defeats in 30 is not cause for crisis. We’ve got matches to win. European trips to make. And Anfield memories to make. Bank on some bouncebackability.
Up the Reds.
Sorry it’s a bit late, Reds, had to wait for my fingers to defrost tbh, and was having a lovely time singing Mo Salah songs in The Solly.
It was cold you know. I mean, like sitting in the fridge in your bills cold (I imagine). When it’s like that, and when your doubting your sanity for bearing the conditions, you want something that makes it worthwhile.
So is right, Mo. What a fucking man.
The sub-zero temperatures were soon forgotten once he got going - and he didn’t take long did he? The goals came at the all the right times. If Watford could have thrown the towel in and fucked off out of the snow at half time, I reckon they would have.
Liverpool, though, the spirit is sound. The effort is great. And there’s magic in the boots of many. Mo is doing stuff there that has you going ‘how did he do that?’. He finds space, he spots opportunity, he puts it in the net and beats players when it doesn’t look on. How did he do that?
And Bobby. Glorious, that, from Bobby. Confidence is coursing through them.
We’ve done them for five and it could have been six, seven or eight. The keeper makes a great save from Ings, who put in an energetic cameo.
It’s great when there’s stuff to aim for at this stage of the season. Imagine being Watford. Dead centre of the league before kick off. The definition of on the beach. Only they needed skis not flip flops today.
Mo though. Mo Salah. Mo Salah, la. He spots Harry Kane having a Premier League breather and decides to slot four. That’s 36 for the season - the best by a Red in a debut season. And it’s 28 in the Premier League. All the best, Harry. That boot with gold on belongs to the Egyptian king.
Liverpool are third, seven points clear of fifth placed Chelsea and the plazzies’ next game is Spurs.
Job done. Again. Don’t take it for granted. These boys are boss. Graft, guile, character and bouncebackability. Liverpool still haven’t lost back to back league games under Klopp.
Town. Why not? See you there. We love you Liverpool, we do. We’re never gonna stop.
That's @Stevieb3186 from here I think
And there he was again: The Owl, like some shit baddie from a Batman film never made.
Emerging from the tunnel with a painted-on grin, having told someone somewhere at Selhurst Park - anyone that would listen and nod attentively - that he was hard done to in a thankfully brief yet painfully long spell as the manager at Anfield, you can bet that under that wire wool hair do there was a burning desire to upset Liverpool again.
He was all smiles at half time, his dastardly plan unfolding just as he dreamt it. He was losing his shit and shouting at anyone who would listen by the final whistle – foiled by the man from Egypt.
Mo Salah, la. Our superhero. Thirty seven goals.
In that moment he was the coolest man in the ground, Sakho left floundering and foolish, diving around like he was playing rugby while Salah calmly put the Reds second in the table. Pressure? What pressure?
It was an odd game all in all. Palace were fired up and fighting, as you would be and should be when you’re in a relegation battle and matches are running out fast. Liverpool though were sleepy first half, the goal an action replay of the tactic that Manchester United used – long ball, big man, flick on, Trent caught by pace and skill, the keeper hasty, advantage ceded.
Liverpool had a warning before that in a similar pattern of play, while going the other way it was too slow, too pedestrian, too predictable. The penalty shout aside, and a few Firmino pot-shots, it was all too easy for Palace.
Second half, Liverpool had had their Weetabix. You wanted a reaction, some feeling, some will, some fight – and you got it. The Reds came out swinging and equalised in five minutes.
We can be thankful that Christian Benteke produced a performance all too familiar in front of goal, and that the referee decided Mane taking his ball home was just fine.
There are worries in there – things Liverpool can do better. But it’s all about the winning. Spirited showings from Robertson, from Firmino, tackling back in the full-back slot on 94 minutes, led the way. Mo did the rest. Victory makes every little thing feel alright.
Chelsea are 10 points back in fifth place. And now City. The big one. The build up starts now. Clear your throats. Make your flags. Bring your A game. This is the European night we’ve been waiting for. Let's make it count.
Hodgson is the skin and bones of a historical nightmare. Klopp – celebrating his 100th Premier League game in charge today - is the face of a Liverpool future that is looking brighter by the day.
Here comes the wise man. And there goes the fool.
Up the fucking Reds.
Turns out Anfield *can* do European nights then.
Who fucking knew?
We did. Of course we did. And yet we’ve had to endure ridicule; virtual pats on the head. ‘Those deluded Scousers, eh? Banging on about atmosphere. They’ve got no chance.’
We know though. Write us off at your peril. Liverpool as a club, a city and a group of people always has it within its make up to pull two fingers from the pocket and show the world what’s what when no one expects it. And here we are again.
That’s just what these lads did. That’s just what we did. The stadium rocked, the team fucking rolled, and City froze in the headlights. Bewildered by brilliance. They never managed a shot on target.
All the scripts written pre match were torn up. Trent v Sane. A struggle in the making. Where the match will be lost. The lad from West Derby had other plans. Teenage kicks are hard to beat.
Lovren, not good enough. Too dodgy. Hasn’t got it in him. But he did.
Milner, Henderson, Robertson...graft, defiance, no respect for them, every respect for us and what the club is capable of.
Three great goals. It could have been more. Thirty eight for Mo. A belter from Chambo. A deserved one for Mane, who deserves more praise for his performances.
Then the other side of it. Sitting, sensible, working, defending. The best team the world has ever seen according to some - and they didn’t get a sniff.
It’s only half time. There has to be some caution. But not tonight. Not for us. They’ve made us dream. Fans turned up early and in numbers and did their bit. The players turned up early in numbers and did their bit too.
Yesterday the world looked in and pointed and laughed. We had no chance.
Now we’ve got every chance.
The small matter of the Derby next. A local affair. An irrelevance in the grand scheme. But let’s win it anyway.
Let’s keep bouncing, and twirling and singing and shouting. Let’s do it all the way to Kiev. Why not?
Fuck the calls of cringe and the bitter bollocks from those rooted to a couch tonight. We won and we won well. We deserved it. And we had all the fun. We’re never gonna stop.
Allez, allez, allez.
Up. The. Fucking. Reds. We love you Liverpool, we do.
Brilliant line, just sums it up perfectly.
It feels like a weird Derby, this.
Normally we’ve had a big buildup, time to think about it. Time to ponder. Time to remember the good times. And there have been plenty.
The loveable Blues haven’t tasted victory now in 16 meetings with the Tricky Reds – that’s seven years, five months and three weeks of perpetual football misery.
Imagine that: all that time with nothing to celebrate; nothing to brag about – no opportunity to give it the big one to your city rivals.
Nope, I can’t either.
It's normally the big game of the week, the one we've been waiting for. This time we’ve been preoccupied with the small matter of demolishing Manchester City at Anfield amid one of the best atmospheres witnessed in recent years.
And now it’s hard to not think ahead to Tuesday’s return leg in the Champions League and finishing the job to secure a semi-final spot.
Jürgen Klopp gave little away in his pre-match press conference but he will surely play safe and shuffle his pack with City in mind. In many positions his hands will be tied by availability but Nathaniel Clyne, Albie Moreno, Danny Ings and Dominic Solanke must all be fancying their chances of starting the match.
In turn, that could offer a chink of light for Everton in terms of ending their dismal record versus ‘The Red Shite’.
For us though a win offers the chance to open up a 13-point gap on Chelsea and again leapfrog Manchester United in the table. Top four must be secured and wouldn’t it be great to take the momentum of a derby win to Manchester?
Should the worst happen and Big Sam’s Gravy Boat floats away with three points we can take some comfort from the fact that a) it’s not even the biggest game of the week never mind the season b) it won’t be our strongest side c) a part of every Blue will be gutted that a result could help to prolong the stay of the Count of Monte Bisto.
Whatever side steps out in red is more than capable of a result there. The fans hate the manager. The manager is playing football they hate. It’s hardly sweetness and light among the obstructed views of Woodison.
Stephen Warnock spoke on this week’s Pro View podcast about how a result like Wednesday’s versus City can permeate right through the club and lift everyone involved, even those not actually out on the pitch. For Ings et al let's hope that is the case.
Wednesday was a wondrous taste of the European football that once we took for granted. It’s been too long and now everyone must crave more – manager, players and, of course, us fans.
A win today helps with all that for next season. And then we can look to Tuesday and go about sorting it for this.
They’re making us dream again. Up the Reds.
The Derby done then - now off to fry those bigger fish in the Champions League.
Jurgen Klopp kept it under with his words pre-match but you know he was fuming about playing this match at this time.
A rash of injuries meant he couldn’t change things as much as he would have liked, and Albie Morneno added to that list in the warm up.
Nevertheless, it was still a misfit of a team that was sent out to fulfil the fixture with Klavan at left back and Ings and Solanke toiling away up front.
It affected the flow and fluidity, as did the soaking pitch, yet first half Liverpool can get ahead. The Reds were the better side - and could and should have through Solanke and Milner. At the other end Karius makes a great save from Bolasie.
Second half, the Blues eventually awakened - Rooney’s removal helping - and in the end we’re left glad that their boys kept choosing to slip on their arse rather than put it away. After being so oddly passive, they realised there was a Derby to be won.
The frustration at Goodison in the end was palpable - and highly enjoyable. This was their big chance to end a wretched run against the Reds. Instead it goes on - 17 matches now without a Derby win; eight years of misery.
We of course rubbed it in. “Allez allez Allardyce must stay.” They hate him. And when you hate your manager it’s not great is it? Hiya, Roy.
In the circumstances a point is sound for us. It’s one closer to the Champions League next season. Now it’s all about Manchester and Tuesday night.
The Reds march on.
Sing, shout, scream, hug your mate, kiss your lover, embrace a stranger, bellow in the streets, bounce on the pavements, stick two fingers up, blow a kiss to the enemy, have a drink, pinch yourself, punch yourself, rub your face, jump up and down.
Whatever the adrenaline a win like that does to you, let it. Enjoy it. Drink it in. It’s been a decade since the Reds were throwing punches this deep into the Champions League fight; 10 long years since our story in the European Cup was adding new pages this late in April. And now here we are. And it’s no fluke.
Liverpool have beaten the Premier League Champions to be fairly and squarely. Not once, but twice. Home and away. And comfortably so. By some margin. It’s quite the feat, and one no one saw coming on that often referenced and now surely forgotten afternoon when the Reds shipped five on this very same ground.
Across two legs, Liverpool have out-thought, out-fought and out-scored the side that was favourites to win this competition just a short time ago.
This side has nous, quality, spirit, fight and over two legs has proven it is a match for anyone. There is nothing to fear now in the semis. Sides of great quality, big names, big grounds, big reputations. But so fucking what, mate. We’re Liverpool FC.
City, as promised threw the sink at the Reds, and when the worst possible start for us unfolded just how they’d scripted it for them, the rest of the kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom followed. They went for it. They gave everything. And Liverpool blocked, tackled, ran, headed, fought and hoped. There was good fortune on their side. But above all there was heart. We couldn’t get out, we couldn’t make it stick, and the Blue tide kept washing. But again and again it was turned away.
Eventually it told. Chamberlain showed in a flash that it could take one chance to floor them. He didn’t take it but it was light for everyone to move towards. Ten minutes into the second half and it was done. Salah had toiled and struggled but who else in this season? The King wasn’t missing.
Bobby added the cherry on top. A come from behind win. A clear victor. And a wonderful fuck off to some of their fans who trotted our some of the tired old stuff that is hardly worth referencing. It’s not even offensive anymore, lads. It’s laughable.
And we are laughing. Laughing all the way to Another European trip. More flags, more fun, more days in the sun.
As we raise a glass, in that changing room, on that bus, there are aching legs, bruised limbs, but big smiles and buzzing minds. Playing for Liverpool is fun again. Following Liverpool is fun again.
You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone and how we’ve missed this.
We’ve conquered all of Europe and we’re never gonna stop.
Up the fucking Reds.
The football romantic in me wanted that to be about 10 nil. You know - ground rocking like it’s a cup final, the Reds busting a gut and playing like Brazil 1970, Bournemouth blown away not knowing what’s hit them.
It wasn’t that. And it didn’t need to be that. What was clear there was that Liverpool now know, 100 per cent, that they are a good side. Everyone knows that - us, them, the manager, Bournemouth...
And that was clear in what we saw unfold. The players were capable of more, we were capable of more. But it didn’t need the football romantic - the football pragmatic was just fine. It was 3-0, mate. What do you want?
As soon as Liverpool, or more specifically Mane, finds the net, we all know. It’s done. We’re winning this. They knew it as well as us.
From there, Liverpool play at around 70 per cent. We do our bit to about the same standard. On and off the pitch there are flashes; passages of play no-one could live with, skill from Salah that is hardly to actually describe, renditions of Allez, Allez, Allez that hint at the passion bubbling below.
This was an important one to win, but the inner chimp was contained. Win it, yes, but save some energy for future days. It can’t always be that way even if we wish it.
It’s not long ago many of these lads played three games in six days. This was a job to do. And it was done very well: professionally, but with flair. Cleverly but with style.
This is what the good sides do. Control it. Strike when need be but conserve when possible. Jürgen Klopp is still flying the plane while building it. And right now you have to say he’s getting both right.
Today it was good to see Milner’s contribution acknowledged, albeit in the most of generic of songs. He deserves that. But what we also saw as a sub plot was the one we wanted - Mo making it 40. Another goal but another clever goal. Kane’s made it moody. So let’s make sure our man wins. He surely will. Golden Boot, Player of the Year. He deserves the pair.
It was one of those days when you can’t fail to smile. Sun on your face, the Reds bossing it in second gear and big trips ahead. We’re the greatest team in Europe and we’re going to Italy...
And what about that Karius save? It all helps doesn’t it?
A week now of nothing. Make those flags. Book those days off. Buy your European Cup clobber. We’re about to see more things that they never see.
West Brom next and then the big one. Bring on yer Roma by the score. Anfield doing what Anfield does.
Life feels different when the Reds are mustard. And right now they’re everything you’d want them to be. If you know you know.
Enjoy it. I know am.