Well I did try and do a live blog for the Liverpool game but it was about as successful as the time I went into Dragons’ Den with a jar of dead bees and asked if they wanted to fund my zoo. We can all strive to be better, were the words chiming in my ears this morning. A maxim that will ring true with most honest folk bar perhaps Dr. Philosophy Rodgers, who flat out refuses to believe he- or indeed any of his team- could possibly find room for improvement.
We were brulliant, he told us. Uxcullunt, he pleaded. I’m sure Liverpool fans looking at the league table last night mightn’t be too thrilled that, were this still the age of Teletext, they’d have to wait until page 2/2 before seeing their beloved team in low-pixelated lights. Maybe I’m wrong but I fancy Brendan Rodgers is a bit of a mentalist.
To the game and Spurs started like underfed dogs being released into the wild. Blistering into a two-goal before the clock had clicked into its twentieth minute. Gareth Bale had one of those spells in which, as a defender, there’s simply nothing you can do but be seen to be making some kind of attempt to catch him, when deep down you know the jig is up and you may as well be chasing the Boogey Man. At full-tilt and in the mood, he’s rather unstoppable. The good lady suggested after the game that the only reason he scored that face-walloping own-goal was to show Liverpool how it was done.
Bale is now the Merseyside club’s joint-second top scorer.
Rodgers claimed the game hinged on two penalty decisions not going Liverpool’s way, and it’s perhaps a valid argument in that you could’ve imagined them being given. There was a certain frisson between Dembele and Gerrard (sexual or not, I can’t determine) but the Belgian undoubtedly wins the ball with the slide-tackle. Calling it an assault it just desperate. Suarez is possibly fouled by Gallas but, again, it’s by no means stonewall/clear-cut/bang-on/100%
Perhaps Brendan could look to his own decision of playing Stewart Downing at left-back for a clue to his team’s problems.
Bit of a nervy second-half, to put it mildly, as the Reds ratcheted up the pressure, following and leading up to the goal. Dawson and Gallas appeared to be feeling the weight of tension as they frequently brought the stupids with their decision making and penchant for losing possession. But in the end, a mixture of stout-ish defending and Liverpool’s trademark profligacy meant the scores never evened up and Spurs just about got away with it. Money in the bank.