My Long Hard Fight With Terminal Football

My Long Hard Fight With Terminal Football.

After another round of heartbreak, deflation and frustration for Liverpool fans, I’m once again pondering the imponderable and trying so hard to foresee the future that I’m getting a headache.

What was a bright first half against a lively Atletico Madrid slowly became a painful death by the end of 120 minutes. Despite Liverpool looking competitive and Aquilani instigating some nice 1-touch passing, the Atletico keeper never had much to do.

On the subject of Aquilani, he seemed to have a nickname amongst some of my red neighbours; Yourshit Wasteoftwentymillion I think they were calling him. A game of football quickly descended into swearball as fans abandoned brain cells to shout aimless swear words at the big green pitch in front of them. One loving father, who had brought his young son to the game, seemed to be suffering from a terrible case of Tourrette’s.

If someone covered my eyes and I listened to the fans to try and decipher what was going on i think the first goal would’ve sounded something like this: Fuckoffyou played it out right to Fuckingrunwithit who knocked it on to Masch who swept the ball into the box before Yourshit Wasteoftwentymillion guided the ball home. It was hard for me not to bask in Aquilani’s glory while staring at his ignoramus detractors.

Throughout the whole second half, anxiety crept in while Gerrard and Lucas never seemed to make it to the second half for one reason or another, leaving Liverpool to play on with 9 men. Once extra time rolled around only Atletico seemed up for it, low and behold, up popped Fuckingrunwithit who drilled a ball past the keeper leaving Anfield with hope of glory... and then...

Nope. Just no. Don’t even think about having a good season. It was never going to happen. Two ex Premiership rivals in Reyes and Forlan combined to ultimately send Atletico through and put Liverpool back in their place, leaving us to end the game with a whimper and not a decent shot on target.

After the game, my initial reaction was one of deflation, but by the time I’d made it to the car I’d calmed down and realised that change is in the air at Liverpool and this season is just what we needed. What’s happened this season is too many players have sulked, too many players have been injured and our squad depth has been exposed. After a stuttering start, I feel as though the bigger characters in the dressing room have failed to shake off any lingering doubts and as a result have failed to lift the dressing room.

It almost feels as though Liverpool were diagnosed with a terminal disease early in the season, since then we’ve gradually got weaker, lost belief and in an unfortunate set of circumstance, become bitter and twisted knowing our luck is out.

We’ve been looking for a cure though, the Maxi drug seemed to help a little, but all it’s done is subdue the pain, the despairing feeling remains, looming over us as though there’s nothing left for us to achieve.

By October we’d written our will and wished everyone the best, a Europa League cup chance gave us false hope of recovery, but we were shot down just when we thought we just might...

I’m sick of it though, sick of being sick and watching a sick team play sick football. I think it’s contagious, it happens on the pitch and it spreads like Swine Flu into the stands. I don’t wanna die Football-God, please! Just let me live through this season and I’ll repent.

With the Yanks finally out (or so we hope), I see light on the horizon, maybe we’re over the worst of it, maybe Dr Benitez has found a cure and he’s just waiting for the summer to administer the treatment. I see Rafa as unspectacular, but steady, methodical and astute, for this I put my faith in him to turn it around. Just one last season, one last hoorah for Rafa to show us what he can really do, that’s what I want.

With a bit of luck, and a spit shine here and there, this season could be a wake-up call and players who maybe thought they’d made it, should take a long hard look at themselves. What has been a problem this season has been the clubs reputation in the media, players like Babel, Riera and Carragher have not helped things this season. Regardless of their intentions, speaking to the press in any way can only lead to bad things, I wouldn’t throw those dogs a bone never mind a nice juice quote to manipulate.

I think Rafa, if he stays, has a big job at hand to pull the dressing room in order, it feels as though cliques may have formed and with Gerrard and Carragher allegedly losing faith in Benitez, I can only hope that they grow up and sort out it out. If it is true of course, allegedly.

It should be remembered that we still have one of the best defences in the league this season, and Reina is once again on course for a Golden Gloves award. The loss of experienced pro’s like Hyyppia, Alonso and Arbeloa has affected team moral, but we’re a team of grown men and the show must go on.

At the moment, even though our season is in tatters, we are not far away from cracking it, it’s fine tuning that’s missing and creative experience. I’m positive that next year Maxi and Aquilani will play a big role in our title push. Players with game intelligence will become ever more important to us because I feel as though too many of our players literally haven’t got a clue. Kuyt, Babel and Carragher, for all their effort, potential and commitment are so hopeless with the ball at their feet I almost blush with embarrassment, as though I’m watching a match just hoping I was the only person in the world who saw it.

If we get a decent amount of money to spend this summer, I hope that Rafa will distribute it wisely on 2 or 3 players at most. We aren’t in need of sweeping changes, just sweeping the dust off our footballing brains under that big red rug. It’s time now to take our medicine, accept that our fate isn’t in our hands (which it hasn’t been for decades) and hope we’re back to full health and rid of this terrible affliction by August!

By Chris Severs

I'll tell you what!

I’ll tell you what!

Bemused, perplexed, confused and flabbergasted. That’s pretty much the state of mind I’m in for the majority of my football related viewing. I spend most of my time trying to find reason in football related matters, which is of course, redundant.

I don’t know why I watch football, all it does is throw problems at me, and it seems to do that to everyone. The ‘Oxbridge’ boat race is on as I type this, and although pointless on the outside, it’s simplicity has a beauty to it that football doesn’t. It’s just a bunch of testosterone fueled toffs pulling on sticks for 15 minutes as hard as they can, simple, no?

When I compare this to football, to all the controversy, the cheating, the vulgarity of riches and the desolation of broken institutions, I have to wonder why I follow such an embarrassing calamity of a business. Like a cheap old whore coming out of retirement, football has threw on it’s lipstick, squeezed into it’s old heels, stuck some extensions in, splattered a bucket of foundation on it’s face and tried to pass itself off as a business. A recent report from Sid Lowe about the Spanish game is relevant to football in all of the major leagues (http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2010/mar/28/barcelona-real-madrid-spain).

I used to be of the impression that once the whistle starts a game to when the whistle blows for full time then nothing else matters. This season however has highlighted that the blatant incompetence, hypocrisy and cheating is as abundant on the pitch as it is off the pitch. Watching Fernando Torres getting cynically kicked all over the park against Benfica on Thursday night was like watching a puppy sat outside in the rain looking back in at your warm toasty haven; completely disappointing, sad and overwhelmingly deflating.

I can’t put my finger on what the problem is, and I worry that if my finger ever came into contact with the problem then it would be quickly bitten off by whatever foul beast is responsible. If I was speculating (which I obviously am) then the root cause is likely to be money. It makes people greedy and at it certainly affects peoples judgments.

I’m starting to think there’s a simplicity in supporting a team that’s not in the media spotlight week in week out. Part of the infuriation that plagues most football fans is ‘expert’ opinion. Now I’m not going to get dragged down into a rant (again) on punditry but if I could leave a ticking suitcase anywhere in the world then watch out Sky Studios!

Back to football, I was very impressed with the hostile atmosphere created by the Benfica fans during our game, it’s a passion that is generally missing in England. I know Rafa came out and talked about our fans being the 12th man but lets be honest, we’re only up for a game a couple of times a year. For the rest of the games the stands are full of slack-jawed louts who don’t know their arses from their elbows and the only thing they’re experts on is the price of a pint. That isn’t exclusive to Liverpool of course, all around England the passionate fan is being replaced by the angry fan. There’s a subtle difference and too many people are blatantly missing the point.

Everybody’s an expert and especially with hindsight it’s easy to preach to others about ‘what you would have done’ but the fact is, nobody cares, because they’re too wrapped up in what they believe themselves. In a way that’s what makes the game so popular, the fact that everyone can have an opinion. What drags it down is the way those opinions escalate into widely held beliefs (fueled by anger) and then, heaven forbid, end up oozing out of Jamie Redknapps mouth.

Right now I’m watching Man City run riot at Turf Moore and although it’s apparent that Burnley are hurtling towards the comforting bosom of Championship Football.
It’s reassuring to see that the majority of Burnley fans are sticking by their team after conceding 4 goals in 20 minutes. I admire that in a strange sort of way, although admiring the brave is very similar to admiring the stupid.

With a touch of foresight, I’d like to remind those expecting some sort of ‘Kop roar’ against Benfica to not get your hopes up, I think you should find a CD of the Kop’s best chants and just throw that on. I fully expect (if Liverpool aren’t winning after 30 minutes) for a chorus of moans, groans and stale old shouts at the same old players so watch out Lucas and Mr Kuyt!

From now to the end of the season I’m going to try and grow a cocoon of ignorance were I’ll try my best to avoid all lager infused opinion and steer clear of any expert punditry. Bring on Eurosport and it’s excellent Eurogoals show! No opinion, just goals. Yes please.