Neil Atkinson’s post-match review for The Anfield Wrap after Liverpool 2 Brighton & Hove Albion 1 in the 2024-2025 Premier League season…
IT’LL come when you call it.
To such an extent we are defined by our own life experiences. We are defined by our moments and we look at the world through that prism. It’s important. Art exists to offer different prisms, different moments, but our own matter.
It’ll come when you call it.
Recently there has been atmosphere discourse. I hate atmosphere discourse because it tends to come not during bad times, but during what could be perceived as flat times. Predictable times.
Atmosphere discourse – ironically – almost fills the silence. Liverpool doing pretty well – as the start of the last two seasons show – isn’t enough. You have to write about something, talk about something so this is what people talk about. Atmosphere discourse.
It’ll come when you call it.
I spend a lot of my life being about to perform. Mondays on a load of shows, Fridays before Friday Night. Live shows. Radio. And often I feel lethargic. Often I feel dwarfed by it, the idea of a microphone. Then I have a moment. And I remember:
It’ll come when you call it.
People say – how do you do the writing? I saw you there, bouncing around, talking to a load of people and then there are words.
This is why the atmosphere discourse drives me mad. Because the atmosphere isn’t a soundtrack and it isn’t a choir. The atmosphere isn’t a constant and the atmosphere shouldn’t be because then it loses its value, loses its lustre.
Instead, it needs to be there when you need it. But you need to know it will be there. You can’t just say it’ll come when you call it. It then has to arrive.
My god did it arrive. My god was it special. Second half was one of the most feral, most intense runs I have ever known at Anfield. It was the whole ground deciding that while Liverpool weren’t playing very well, they were ours and today mattered. Today was in fact a jumping off point. Today was everything.
We called it and it came.
They were so good, first half, Brighton. They can sense they are able to disrupt the Liverpool rhythm and they seek to physically dominate all over the park. Liverpool are slow and indecisive in response.
You wonder in the first half whether Liverpool have forgotten how to pass. Cody Gakpo seems to not have completed a pass for some ridiculous period of time, and the combined ranks of Alexis Mac Allister, Dominik Szoboszlai, Ryan Gravenberch and Trent Alexander-Arnold look like they are not fully on top of the passing thing.
Looking at the lineup, of course we long for our first-choice keeper to be back. But Caoimhin Kelleher does OK. It’s the outfield players who appear to have only just met.
Brighton’s goal on 14 minutes isn’t bad, but it’s what it shows about Liverpool’s first half that puts heads in hands.
The space. The acres and acres of green open space left by Liverpool’s midfield for Brighton players to roam wild in. We all see it coming. Kelleher isn’t to blame, Tsimikas loses his man, but really it’s the space that does it. The finish is electric. It really is.
The first half early goal does not elicit a strong response from The Reds. If it is possible, the passing gets worse. Is this worse than Nottingham Forest? Possibly. There is little discernable shape to Liverpool’s play. And worse, we are now getting battered. Second best.
“Can we play you every week?” is so often a pejorative, but this Brighton side is a joy to watch. They are so smart, and so focused, and so well drilled. They are a credit to themselves and their manager and their support.
I’d gladly watch them against us over and over, watch them push us and threaten us and be smarter than us. They ought to have won one of these games this week; they ought to win a trophy soon.
You’d have subbed eight of them but unfortunately, it’s Brighton’s intervention that forces our first sub, as Ibou Konate is forced to the ground with a very painful looking injury at the death of the first half.
Joe Gomez does a Joe Gomez and replaces him. Joe Gomez does a Joe Gomez and brightens things for the team, plays brilliantly and at several points nearly but doesn’t quite score. Gomez, though. One of the greatest living Liverpudlians.
The second half is better, but it’s not going anywhere in the first 10. Trent is furious everywhere. We need more force in midfield. We need more upfront. We need to win.
The manager needs to intervene and he does. Curtis Jones comes on for a yellow-carded Mac Allister and makes all the difference. Luiz Diaz is the answer upfront. We start to look sharper and Liverpool carry the ball better.
What’s more, scores are coming through from elsewhere. This game suddenly becomes it all.
It’ll come when you call. And Anfield is calling, shouting, demanding, needing more than wanting and wanting for all time.
Then a cross from Gakpo flies in to bring us level. To bring relief, and release, and belief, and all the verbs that matter, all the feelings that crown the enterprise.
By this point, the confidence is all Liverpool’s and for the next five we look like scoring. Mo Salah is undeniably still the player that teams come to Anfield to control and he shows why as he grabs the ball, finds the perfect space and aims with perfect speed and power on the 72nd minute.
Taller defenders are forever holding him, but he shows that he will tolerate all in order to find that chink in their armour.
It’ll come when you call. And Mo calls and Mo is at home, at his gaff, amongst his people, in his element. What is his element? Atmosphere out of control. Pressure on. Big prizes up for grabs. Liverpool. Liverpool. Joe Gomez may be one of the greatest living Liverpudlians, but Mo Salah could well be the greatest actual one.
Now ahead, Liverpool’s players have Anfield loud behind them. We know and they know what this means. They called. It came.
The next 20 are far from easy, but with another sub – Endo for Nunez – we carry it home together, carry this delicate thing and this slab of glory. This day of results that Liverpool could have demanded in their dreams.
What does this all mean? It means we’re inexorably on the march now. It means we’re rightly and deservedly top of the pile. It means I am glad we are only playing Brighton once more in the league. It means everything is possible in this sudden best of all possible worlds.
It means we are on the march. There is nothing better than being on the march and it means that everything else, everything that matters, everything that is blood and bone, everything will come when you call it.
Isn’t that liberating? Isn’t that Liverpool?
Liverpool. Liberating. Top of the league.
Subscribe for immediate post-match reaction from around the ground…
“Anfield was absolutely pounding! When Salah scored that second goal it was pandemonium.”
“The goal is everything he is, everything he’s been, everything he’s meant. He is the best one.”
Post Match Show on The Anfield Wrap App ️ pic.twitter.com/YnVdScpFQz
— The Anfield Wrap (@TheAnfieldWrap) November 2, 2024
PHWOARRR!!!! We’re gorgeous!!!
Trent was awful in this game. Applies zero pressure on Mitoma for the BHA goal. And he couldn’t pass, which is his entire game.
in his head he’s already gone