Ben Johnson’s player ratings for The Anfield Wrap after Liverpool 7 Manchester United 0 in the Premier League at Anfield…
MANCHESTER United. Seven-nil.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
How many laughs was that? Seven. OK, sound. Just checking.
Giving him a seven cause, well, why not? That number is stuck in my head for some reason.
Great save in the first minute, and does really well after he slipped to recover. Funny that Fernandes, mate. One crying twat, him. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Seven laughs, aye.
Wow. The story before this was that he was going to get ragged by Rashford. Nice tale, that. Lovely ring to it.
Fucking imperious. Cheeky twats. I mean, so much happened it’s almost impossible to sort of remember details. But, I don’t know, was he involved in some of the goals? Who is arsed?
Just so good, isn’t he? Positionally, his intelligence, his physicality. His fucking everything. The complete player. A mini Virgil. Big paws on a pup.
See above but he isn’t a pup and he is the fucking king instead. The best there ever was.
Honestly, his ability to get a read on what means most to the fans is what sets him apart. Always man of the match in the big games, the derby, this, that, the fucking others. Best left back in the world. Best to play for The Reds.
Unbelievable today. Started the whole thing. The ball for Gakpo for the first. Perfectly weighted, perfectly timed. Perfectly choreographed. Wow. Amazing.
It’s mad that three weeks ago we were saying he shouldn’t fucking play anymore, as in at all, and now he has just cruised through that game against Casemiro who apparently, given the fucking hype over the last few days, is fucking Jesus Christ reincarnated.
Fuck me. I mean, I like Casemiro. Mainly because he constantly just looks absolutely the most surprised man in the world. His eyebrows, la. I think they are tattooed on and he asked for a permanent state of shock to be scribed on his kite. Fucking shocked tonight.
Wild how he gets written off as a cart horse by people who describe themselves as Liverpool fans. Great today, setting tempos, recycling the ball, closing space.
We have just beat Man United seven-fucking-nil mate, and some crab somewhere will be saying he twatted one up in the air when he should have done a double pivot drag back. OK, mate. Nice.
Not going to lie, when the teamsheet dropped I was worried. Worried about the right side. Worried about our midfield being a bit fucking wishy washy again.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
He ran the fucking game. In them half spaces, the combinations setting The reds on the path to greatness. Amazing.
Spent the first half saying he needed to get involved more, wasn’t getting enough out of him. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha times seven.
Lovely goal, then the second, wow. What a header. Unreal. Like a man possessed second half. Boss little scally, him.
I thought he was incredible. Everywhere, linking play, balancing the team, kept hold of the ball all day and worked like a fucking Bobby Firmino at his best. The first is a great goal, but the second. Wow, what a little dink. Amazing. Set The Reds on the way to chaos.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha times seven.
Honestly, unplayable there. Was incredible. Funny how much they were trying to, and actually were, fouling him. That fat pudding of a left back. Honestly, conceded seven the dollop. The same number of sausages he has for his breckie the fat little wap. And then the rest of them.
I’ve honestly never seen someone turn someone so much as he did to that little jockey playing centre half. Fairly sure his soul wafted up into the sky when he hit the deck. Finished him. I mean, absolute little fella syndrome him, mate. Wanted to fight the world when all anyone wanted to know was where he parked his fucking horse before the game and whether he fancied his chances at Cheltenham.
That finish from Mo. Wow. Unbelievable. Twatted it, didn’t he? One of the best ever, Mo. More Premier League goals than Fowler? Unreal. He was unplayable tonight. Unplayable.
Just come on and was front foot to everything. Unlucky to miss out, but it was a big call that the gaffer got right obviously.
Would have liked him to chop seven sausages out of Luke Shaw when he come on. But just used his big old sensible head and kept the ball instead.
Come on, nearly scored, got body slammed by Luke Shaw and his sausages and, frankly, it’s a miracle his head didn’t explode like a watermelon.
Bobby Firmino: 10
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha times seven. A love story. Was fucking poetic, wasnt it? So made up for him. One of the greats.
Imagine the night he is going to have tonight. Christ.
“I have never seen anything like that and I am glad to be alive…”
“Everyone from one to sixty six was great!”
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— The Anfield Wrap (@TheAnfieldWrap) March 5, 2023