THERE it is. The comfortable away win with the clean sheet. It can’t get much more comfortable and it probably won’t for the rest of the campaign. We’ve been waiting for this, waiting to see it. When it occurred it was like a warm bath on a cold day....
The sea was large today, Just as any other day, Something broke in me, Watching on this winter’s eve… THERE is a point in a season where Liverpool are good when sheer desperation for the league title kicks in. It shouldn’t have been today. Today...
YOU’RE approaching Anfield – by car, by train and on foot. Our supporters expect a functional, normal game. One we should win. And then phones go off. Electronic devices alert the faithful to the score at St James’ Park and heads go. This is a big...
AMONG the oddest games in living memory. The draw helped neither side in a sense, but both seemed far too happy with it. No one appeared to have done the maths, the counting. Start with the guests. Napoli can expect to get a result against Genk. If they fail to beat...
“I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nighttime, I might not ever get home.” BEING abroad and watching these. Being abroad and being represented by the best sports team on the planet. Knowing these are the best of the best. The best men alive today....
THERE are two games happening. One the biggest of 11 men’s lives. Away at the Champions Of Europe, away at Anfield, away at Divock Origi’s lads. The other not the biggest this week. One that needs to be won, no doubt, but one which comes off the back of an...
MATTERS are out of hand. Things are out of hand. Liverpool go 1-2 and if every fibre of your being isn’t bedlam then you are doing life wrong. If every fibre of your being doesn’t scream at you that these are the greatest men who have ever have been...
FOR a night, at least, let it deny serious analysis. Watching those lads there is no excuse for greybeardedness. They were popping candy in ice cream, blue bubblegum freezy pops, flying saucers. The feelgood hit of the autumn, a reminder of summer vibes. Derling...
THE beginning of the game is mad. Flip it. It’s the final in silhouette. And bear that in mind. Bear in mind that game, what they then do and what we do in a boiling Madrid. Half the ground misses it, still sitting down as their number 17 Sissoko dashes forward....
THREE of the goals are gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. Language struggles for the other, for Oxlade-Chamberlain and Liverpool’s second. There isn’t an aesthetic plus point it doesn’t score double in. There are two or three Shakespearean sonnets where...
