ALBERTO MORENO could maybe do better from where I am. Could maybe do better. Riyad Mahrez sends him. The keeper could maybe come. But then Jamie Vardy does that. And that is that. That is that. Goals from nowhere. Magic in the boots. Liverpool are done and Leicester are having a great time.
Leicester are having a great time. They aren’t cool. They aren’t funny or sexy or slinky or any of the things you want to be. They haven’t got funk in their junk.
But they have got sheer unbridled joy in their strides and rightly so because if you can’t enjoy this right now then you are wasting your time.
They are enjoying it. Fair play to them.
The selection of Jordan Henderson at right mid is dreadful. The first time he comes by us second half and the ball goes dead we see him walk.
He doesn’t walk. He limps.
He can’t walk cleanly. He’s clearly not fit.
If he is fit he should be centre mid. He isn’t fit. He clearly isn’t fit. If he is telling his manager he is fit then he is letting people down. If people at the club are saying he is fit, well, he is limping. Clearly limping.
And either way, he isn’t a right mid. He isn’t a right mid.
Liverpool want to go 4-4-2 you think but yet again everyone is 10 yards higher than they should be. Roberto Firmino a nine-and-a-half at nine.
Adam Lallana a midfielder at 10. Henderson a centre mid at right mid, James Milner likewise.
And Liverpool lack pace. They are so chronically short of pace. Pace over five yards, 10 yards, 20 yards. Each and everyone of Liverpool’s front six could, for the position they are in, could do with having more over 10 yards.
The difference between Liverpool and this Leicester side is simply pace and finishing.
That might as well be everything.
Dejan Lovren and Mamadou Sakho are quicker than Wes Morgan and Robert Huth. This is pointless because Vardy is markedly quicker than all four.
Firmino and Lallana aren’t.
I got off on 85. I don’t normally do that sort of thing but I did. I just couldn’t hack any more.
I stuck Stoke 6-1 out to the bitter end so don’t judge. I just couldn’t watch any more of Liverpool’s bluntness in the context Vardy had left.
I couldn’t deal with Leicester’s uncool fun. I couldn’t live with it. I don’t normally do that sort of thing but I was overwhelmed.
It doesn’t take much to fix.
Divock Origi, Danny Ings, Philippe Coutinho and Daniel Sturridge all back. Two more pacey good footballers added. Liverpool left with lightning. Buying lightning.
Instead a pump down a channel. A burst of pace. A flamboyant finish which didn’t give a fuck. Liverpool finished. Leicester fervent. Bill Shankly up at night with his knives and forks. With his pepper pot. Thinking about Leicester. Saying. Thinking:
It can’t be allowed to happen again. It can’t be allowed to go on.
Leicester away. It’s a marker. It’s your marker. My marker. Jürgen’s marker.