After a dramatic on-pitch start to the international break and more off-pitch turmoil in between, Liverpool must ensure a drama-free week…
I HAVE a dream.
More than anything I want the next two games to be drama free. Particularly the next one.
Collectively, PSG and Wembley took it out of us all and the unpleasant stench of vapours that follow a poor patch clung onto many, colouring minds.
I’m no different and have spent the past fortnight sighing in the street or biting my lip whenever The Reds were mentioned, but that’s quite enough of that. It’s a policy which serves no one.
We’re finally back on Wednesday when Liverpool play a home fixture against another Premier League side. The winner will collect three points or both sides will collect a solitary point in the event of a drawn game. Let me know if I’m being too technical for you.
This is how I’m choosing to view the derby. A line on a spreadsheet. Two numbers divided by a dash. I’d like the first number to be the higher of the two. A line of binary.
Ridiculous, I know.
I just don’t want the drama. Drama, like pride, can hurt as well as lift the spirits and I’m tired of jumping between heart-swelling highs and bowel-shattering lows when all I want from the game is three points. Entertainment and intrigue can wait.
And this is the worst possible fixture for this sort of thing. The derby. Us versus them. Families divided. Form books sailing through windows. Bragging rights. It all comes with the territory. That sort of thing.
I’d like to forget all that. I’d just like an honest to God game of football without the additional hearts and flowers of ‘the last ever game at Goodison’ and ‘David Moyes back for another derby’.
If the headlines on Thursday morning read ‘Liverpool win game’ then I’ll be fine. Anything without a forensic analysis and theatre of penalties, offsides, Michael Oliver (admittedly difficult as it’s Sam Barrott on Wednesday, though I wouldn’t put it past him to get himself involved somehow) and ‘yeah, buts’ would be perfect.
I could live with that.
I just want our 11 lads against another 11 lads and for our 11 lads to win.
In some ways, the Trent Alexander-Arnold thing has taken the shine off the game. I’m fine with it, if you’re interested.
He’s never said he was signing and, as he’s won everything for us while he was here, then all’s fine. We’ll miss his ability, obviously, but if he wants to try something new then it seems harsh to slate him for it.
This isn’t Michael Owen briefing that he’d sign his new contract at the end of the season and then getting selfies with Zizou in the summer. People can leave if they feel they want a change.
I wish him a happy if unspectacular career in Spain. Once you’re gone, you’re gone, but I’ve no bad feelings. No hatred. He’s merely retired from my heart.
But he’s no longer my concern. Only those three points matter. Three points would be a reset and an announcement that we’re back in business and all previous arrangements with form and tiredness are now off the table.
I mean, I know it’s unlikely, but I’d like Mo Salah to have a black and white photo of Jarrad Branthwaite tucked into his bedroom mirror like in Rocky IV. I’d like his entire focus to be on Jarrad and his mates rather than wondering what the hell Wembley was about. Get it over the line and then think about West London.
Two wins will make a huge difference at this point of the season.
I hope we’ve learned from that awful week. Never let a good crisis go to waste and all that.
Arne Slot will have learned a lot from his new club over the past 10 days and hopefully even more about himself.
Just win this one, Reds. A last-minute own goal from Michael Oliver would do it.
No alarms and no surprises, please.
