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Liverpool Red Diary - part 15
by Joel Rookwood
Ipswich & Charlton
As
Worthington Cup ties go, Wednesday night's encounter with Ipswich was
relatively exciting, at least once we'd got the mind numbingly dull first
half out of the way. I'd have asked for my money back if Liverpool gave
such a lifeless performance in a pre- season friendly. The first half
was that bad.
But this is the cup us Scousers dub the 'Worthy Cup'. And while half empty stadiums and reserve team players playing first team football sums up exactly what this competition is worth, especially if you listen to the rants of Monsieur Wenger at Arsenal, it does at least reward the winners with a European place. And more importantly for Liverpool, should we win this trophy in February it will 'breed confidence', as our own French talisman Gerard Houllier is always keen to highlight - I think he'd like to win it. And so would I, if only so we could once again sing the song from our most recent treble winning season, 'tell me ma, me ma - to put the champagne on ice. We're going to Cardiff twice, tell me ma me ma.'
But for Liverpool this encounter with the Tractor Boys wasn't about the nature of the competition, or the opposition, or even the game. This was about one man, fallen from grace, as the Kop asked, 'will the real Jerzy Dudek please stand up ' and be counted.' Dudek had an outstanding first season as Liverpool goalkeeper last year, and was as vital a cog in the Liverpool machine as any other. However following a shocking World Cup with Poland, the former Feyenoord stopper has enjoyed indifferent form, culminating in a clanger against United at the weekend, which gifted the Mancunians a famous three points at Anfield.
However, as with Michael Owen when he went through a bad patch earlier in the season, the Liverpool 'keeper was singled out for constant praise against Ipswich. Indeed the Kop acted as though it were witnessing a goalkeeping session not a competitive match; applauding every touch, singing his name after every save, and cheering every acknowledgement of the support that was bestowed upon him. Never in all my time as a Liverpool fan have I ever heard one player singled out for such generous support.
In truth though, the fact that none of the Polish keeper's colleagues deserved any praise throughout the game for their own performances, impacted the direction of the home fans support. Predictably Ipswich manager, Evertonian Joe Royle was subjected to the odd bout of abuse from the Liverpool faithful - however I'm sure his 'big fat head' is carried by shoulders wide enough to cope with such onslaughts. Short of such outbursts however it was a one-man adulation show. And Dudek's appreciation of the support was clearly visible.
I saw one of George Burley's last games as Ipswich manager, when the Suffolk side visited Preston, and I remember thinking on that cold night at the Deepdale how deserving the Ipswich side were of their first division status, having been relegated from the Premiership last season. We scored eleven goals against them last season in the league, without conceding, and they looked a poorer side still in the first division. Under the stewardship of the former Everton boss, it looks as though little has changed. However whilst Ipswich were poor last Wednesday, we were awful. Tommy Miller gave the farmers the lead on thirteen minutes, after one of Gregory Vignal's open invitations to the Ipswich midfield to cross the ball at their leisure into the Liverpool box. So within the first quarter of an hour we had found ourselves one down, and deservedly so. Our back four looked as though they'd never even met, never mind played together, and the confusion at the back, was invitation enough for Ipswich to attack the home side. Pablo Counago's volley nearly doubled Ipswich's lead soon after the first goal, with Darren Bent coming close moments later, when the striker glanced a free header wide of the post.
After the game the press were quick to emphasise the fact that Liverpool struggled despite the fact the fact we fielded a side of internationals, though it has to be said, few looked international class. Diouf was a prime example, who true to form, missed more than one opportunity to get the home side off the mark. One man who seemed to better understand the concept of urgency however was debutant Neil Mellor, who was clearly desperate to get on the score sheet. The striker scored about three hundred goals for the reserves last season, and deserved his chance in the starting line up. Yet sadly the young forward couldn't add to his reputation by finding the net.
Following
an abysmal opening period, Liverpool gradually found their feet in the
second half, no doubt following a roasting from assistant boss Phil Thompson.
Indeed, it took just eight minutes for the reds to draw level. Mellor
stole in behind Ipswich defender Mark Venus who sent the striker sprawling
leaving referee Dermot Gallagher with the easiest decision of the night,
awarding the home side with a penalty at the Kop end.
Diouf grabbed the ball, and nearly had a fully blown fight with Neil Mellor
in front of an amused Spion Kop, with Mellor adamant that he should be
taking the penalty. Captain-for-the-night Steven Gerard stepped in though
and took charge of the situation, relieving Mellor of the ball and placing
it in the hands of the more experienced Senegalese striker. Diouf fired
the ball to Marshall's right, much to the delight of the Liverpool faithful,
a goal that left Ipswich visibly shaken. Mellor was clearly out to prove
a point immediately, racing onto a through ball within a minute of the
restart, only to see his effort come back off the post. It just wasn't
to be the young striker's night, and he was replaced minutes later by
the ever-hungry Milan Baros.
Liverpool had chances to win the game thereafter. Diouf scored for a second time but saw his strike ruled out due to a head injury to Marshall. Liverpool's were further tested firstly by Hermann Hreidarsson and then by Darren Bent, though Liverpool's makeshift defence managed to keep the Ipswich front line at bay.
With the sides level after ninety minutes, a further half
an hour's football was on the agenda, with extra-time bringing more of
the same. Substitute Baros missed a good chance following good work from
Gerrard on the right wing, while the Huyton terrier nearly scored himself
late on with a curling free kick in the closing stages.
Yet after two hour's football, there was nothing to separate the two teams,
rendering a penalty shoot out the final straw. And as with the last time
a game involving Liverpool went to penalties, the choice of end where
the kicks would take place would prove decisive. So when the Ipswich captain
made his way to the Kop end, indicating that the penalties would be taken
in front of our most passionate support, we knew the huge advantage had
to tell.
And when Dudek stepped up to challenge the skipper, the crowd went wild, as the Jerzy Dudek appreciation society remained in good voice. Holland converted his kick though, before Gerrard leveled the score. Then came the decisive penalty, when Jamie Clapham could only strike the frame of the goal. Liverpool's remaining kickers were all successful, with Milan Baros, John Arne Riise, Jamie Carragher and finally Diouf ensuring a long drive home for the Ipswich supporters. We had made hard work of a relatively straightforward test of our cup credentials, but who cares for we are through, and will now play Aston Villa in the quarterfinals.
However whilst we may be still in Europe, the Worthington
Cup and lie second in the league, with the FA cup still to come, our form
is worrying, with our current position hiding the lack of quality of our
recent performances.
So we went to an inform Charlton side who had won four consecutive games,
eager to improve on form of one point from our last four. The home side
were in jubilant mood, celebrating ten years since they had returned to
their home ground. Conversely when we arrived at The Valley after spending
seven hours traveling to South East London, we were certainly not in high
spirits.
As with our last visit to London, Liverpool looked disinterested
from the first whistle. Our back four were exposed by an energetic Charlton
front line, as we struggled to match an alert and well organized Charlton
side. It was Jason Euell who opened the scoring for the Addicks after
thirty-six minutes, firing home from close range after Henchoz's failed
attempts to clear the ball. You got the feeling the Liverpool players
thought the game was over from that moment.
Kirkland replaced Dudek in the Liverpool goal for this game, and was impressive
when called into action, though nearly had his big day cut short when
clashing heads with the oncoming Shaun Bartlett midway through the first
half. But the England U21 'keeper recovered to make a great save from
Kevin Lisbie in first half stoppage time to prevent the game from being
over by half time.
Heskey's
injury this week was to his groin, following his only positive contribution
to the game, a powerful shot that just fizzed over Dean Kiely's crossbar.
And whilst his replacement, John Arne Riise was effective, Liverpool had
little else to shout about following another dire first half performance.
Predictably we were better in the second half, with Murphy and Hamman
proving more assertive, taking the game by the scruff of the neck. Murphy
had chances for the visitors, whilst Lisbie kept the Liverpool back four
busy all afternoon. Substitute Milan Baros was guilty of missing a guilt-edged
chance to level the score, heading wide from close range. The Czech international
did eventually find the target, but his effort was correctly disallowed
for offside. Then Liverpool's failure to protect their back four as they
went in search of an equalizing goal, just as in games against Man United
and Fulham, proved costly. Konchesky found himself unmarked in the Liverpool
penalty area late on, adding to the home's side's advantage when he lobbed
Kirkland, after picking up a rebound. We had been well beaten in London.
Again.
On several occasions I nearly crashed whilst driving back
home from the Capital. Listening to callers on football phone-ins on national
radio is never easy, but when Liverpool are the topic of conversation,
it's often unbearable. And yet I do it every week. This particular group
of irate callers however where particularly annoying, as I found myself
trying to smash up my radio, in a bid to avoid listening to Liverpool
'fans' calling for the manager's head. I'm still too angry to respond
to such idiocy, so instead I'll turn to a Liverpool Echo columnist to
do the job for me,
'Houllier remains the best thing that's happened to this club since the
day Kenny Dalglish quit'Judgement day is the first week of May, not December.
Those with itchy fingers before the arrival of the first Christmas post
would be wise to remember it.' Is right, lad.
And now if I may, I will turn to another response to the
current plight, one I found inspirational and typically Scouse. As the
country loses it's head in the wake of what Sky TV called the first 'on
field crisis'of the Houllier regime, this is what a Liverpudlian had to
say on a fan's website:'If I could offer you only one tip for the future,
Michael Owen would be it. The long-term benefits of having Michael in
your side have been proven by an outstanding goal-scoring record, whereas
the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own short-lived
experiences. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of Emile Heskey. Oh, never mind. You will not
understand the power and beauty of Emile Heskey until he's been sold.
But trust me, in twenty years time, you'll look back on photos of him
and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before
him and how fabulous he really was. He's not as useless as you imagine.
Don't worry about the season ahead. Or worry, knowing that worrying is as effective as trying to solve the left sided midfield problem by putting Emile Heskey there. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 3pm on some idle Saturday, when you realise Sami Hyypia is injured.
Play Danny Murphy at least once a season, at Old Trafford.
Chant.
Don't be reckless with two-footed lunges. Don't put up with people who are reckless with theirs.
Cross.
Don't waste your time on Man United. Sometimes we're ahead, sometimes we're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only between us and Arsenal.
Remember compliments we receive. Forget what the press/Alex Ferguson/Mark Lawrenson/Arsene Wenger says. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old match programmes. Throw away The Sun
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if Steven Gerrard can't play for England in midweek. If he's fit for us, it doesn't matter. Remember: club before country.
Get plenty of rest. Be kind to your hamstrings. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe we'll win the league, maybe we won't. Maybe we'll win in Europe, maybe we won't. Maybe we'll beat Everton; maybe we'll carry on beating United twice a season for the next twenty years. Whatever happens, don't congratulate yourself too much, or be too downhearted either. Our luck is half-chance. So is everybody else's.
Enjoy your football. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of what might happen or what other people might think of you. It''s the greatest love you will ever know.
Gloat, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Know the offside rule, even if you don't follow it.
Do not look at Luke Chadwick; he will only make you nauseous.
Get to know your players; you never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your wife, she's the best link to your past and the person most likely to cook your tea when you get home from the match.
Understand that players come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in language and lifestyle, because the less tolerant you are, the more likely you are to be branded a hooligan.
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Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: United will win things, Arsenal will always buy foreign. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasise about the days when United won nothing and Arsenal were a team of Englishmen and not a bunch of foreign johnnies.
Respect our foreign johnnies.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a wife, maybe you have a girlfriend. But you never know when either one will get pissed off at you and walk out.
Don't mess with Roy Keane, or by the time you're 25 you'll have no knees.
Be careful whom you buy, and be patient with those who lose their touch. Older players are a form of nostalgia. Playing them is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on Michael Owen. - Brilliant.
The views expressed here are those of the author and are not necessarily endorsed by Soccerphile Ltd.