After Darwin Nunez’s winning goal at the death against Nottingham Forest, where do the concerns of Liverpool supporters lie?
WERE you killed by the stream?
I was. 98 minutes on the clock and the buffering wheel of despair appeared on my screen. Just seconds left with The Reds looking to take a corner and that little swine drops into the centre of the stream. Then a white screen.
I could have closed the laptop and took the dog for an angry drag around the park, but you can’t do that anymore. You never give up.
There was about a minute unaccounted for so I try the BBC. That’s half an hour behind so no chance there and so to Twitter. Interesting. Most new tweets bear the same message. Pages of them.
“DARWIN!!!!”
Of course, I celebrated — my aching heart is still celebrating now — but I felt a bit sick too. Of all minutes to go down, the stream decided to give up the ghost when fans of other clubs might have called it a day.
Never give up.
Mind you, you don’t just get one stream. Over the course of 90-plus minutes you have to work your way through a good six or seven. Still, at least the Premier League are protecting their ‘product’. Peace of mind, there.
Because of this I missed the accompanying fume from Forest fans and the usual litany of oh-so-objective pundits gushing out their ‘controversy’ claims. From Clattenburg issuing statements, to their owner legging the ref, to Jenas, anxiously awaiting the call to host Songs of Praise live from the York Minster, they shouted and shouted. Others spoke of corruption. Our smiles just grew wider.
Nil-one. Darwin Nunez.
Even if they had a point — and they really, really didn’t — we might have had more sympathy had they not been laughing their cocks off at us after the Tottenham debacle. Maybe we could replay Saturday’s game? You had your chance to get us onboard when we were calling for better standards, but it’s only us and we lost that day so, y’know… Enjoy the game, won’t you?
Still, at least they got to sing the national anthem. The world’s lowest grade burn.
I love football fans. There’s nothing better than meeting a fan from a club of which I know little and asking how they’re getting on. I was at a wedding once in the 1990s when the groom asked who I supported. When I answered, he paused briefly before lamenting the fact that his Newcastle’s full backs weren’t active enough. The universal language.
I’m not sure I can understand the mentality of Forest, though. I honestly think a lot of them would have happily taken relegation just to stop us winning. Not beating us. Just stopping us from winning. Weird. Do you support your team or hate another more?
That was an uncomfortable question on the final day of the 1995 season when a Blackburn win at Anfield would deny a United title. Would it be worth it to see a meaningless win at home, against Kenny of all people, to deliver another title to United? I’m still not sure now and I’m just happy we got lucky.
Never give up.
I never do. Play to the whistle and see what happens, that’s my credo. I needed that extra minute. Paul Tierney hadn’t been shouted at enough for a start. I love that he’s now painted as part of the pro-Red illuminati.
But this is all about us. It’s about finding the energy to do it all again despite a paucity of resources and a punishing fixture list. We’ve so many injuries that the kids are now getting rests in case they’re too tired for the next game. We looked knackered on Saturday. Hard to believe that the Luton game was four games ago. Four games! That was last Wednesday!
Never give up, but I thought Saturday looked a step so far. The replacements have been great — far better than many of us could have expected, but I really missed Mo Salah at the City Ground. I wanted to see Trent Alexander-Arnold carve them open, but he’s still got his trackie on. Most of all I wanted to see Diogo Jota. A no-nonsense striker who’s done for them before.
The replacements, though. Bobby Clark worries me. I like him too much. His confidence shines through him. I love a player who would rather run across the pitch than pass it back. I also love forward-thinking forwards who love getting back to take the ball again. I worry because I don’t want him to grow out of this phase of his career. He’s going to save this club some money in the summer.
I adore Jayden Danns and would rather watch his post-Southampton interview on a loop for a decade than a 30-second clip of the future Jermaine Jenas talking to this week’s guest choir.
His enthusiasm is unbridled, his pressing game furious and unrelenting. I saw Josh Williams wonder if Jayden could have a role as an impact sub a la Divock Origi. I’ve had the same thought. Imagine it from the opposition defence’s point of view. Eighty minutes of holding The Reds off and then you see that jumping up and down on the touchline in the distance.
But most of all I love Caoimhin Kelleher. I mean, talk about a hard act to follow. Sinatra’s understudy.
‘Go and do what Alisson Becker does, mate.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
How hard must that be? Months of warming up and when you’re called up you win trophies and make saves like that. He’d be a great number one if we didn’t have the best number one.
The next three games are in three different competitions. There’s months of this to come. It’s exhausting but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Never give up. Never stop.
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I love your column’s Karl. Perhaps because we’re both of the same sort of era, roughly, or because I get a lot of your references. Mainly it’s because I think I often feel the same way as you about a game, before, during and after, based on how you describe your emotions and reactions to incidents.
Definitely agree more shouting at Tierney was required Saturday…