For A Range Of Liverpool
Products
The Soccerphile World Cup 2002 Archives Click here to go to the current Soccerphile.com
31 January 2003
Liverpool Red Diary - part 20
by Joel Rookwood
Southampton and Sheffield Utd
|
|
| Click On The Image For A Range Of Liverpool Products |
As I was flicking through the fixture list back in August, a shudder went down my spine as I looked at the games for January ' I was dreading the prospect of Southampton away, with Liverpool's only previous meeting at the absurdly named St Mary's Friends Providence stadium holding few positive memories. It was a midweek encounter last year, which meant going to the trouble of getting time off work. The coach broke down en route to the south coast so we got to the ground too late for a pre-match drink, the team were awful and we got beaten two nil, including a spectacular John Arne Riise headed own goal. Then I got beaten up after the game, argued with my mate all the way home, and had to walk from the drop off point to my house, getting in at five o'clock with work starting at eight. It wasn't the best day out I've ever had. So with Liverpool without a league win in eleven games and Southampton riding high and unbeaten at home all season, I wasn't exactly optimistic of this trip proving more favourable, as we left for Southampton early on Saturday morning.
We did the five and a half hour trip in a little over three hours, which gave us plenty of time to take in the sights. Typically every venue we visited that afternoon was primarily concerned with selling ale. So we watched Manchester United's (or 'Munich's' if you're hail from the hole that is Warrington) narrow victory over Chelsea in a pub full of relatively local United supporters. They naively cheered their team's victory, blissfully unaware that a small number of Liverpudlians were gathered by the bar. But we let the idiots enjoy their victory, being as they are the lowest form of life - the non-local football fan, and non-local Man United fans at that.
After a tour of Southampton's best alehouses, we headed towards the ground to meet with the rest of the group, who'd travelled down independently. One member of our party travelled without a ticket, so disappeared to rectify the situation. We just about managed to get the singing going in the lifeless 'Le Tissier's Feet', a pub dedicated or possibly owned by the legendary number seven. Inside we were kept amused by a group of men sporting Southampton shirts with south coast accents singing 'we're all going on a European tour'. It must have been those Man United fans from the previous bar, having swapped allegiances, probably for about the fourth time this season.
The short walk to the ground that followed saw us get completely drenched, but our spirits weren't dampened, for in the stadium the travelling Kop reigned supreme, completely out singing our hosts. And in the opening period our team did the fans justice, instilling in us the belief that the day had arrived when we'd get that elusive league win, the first since a two-nil win over struggling West Ham back in early November.
Houllier's side were simply magnificent. Predictably the application was there, but for once so too was the performance. Diouf looks better with every game now that we don't let him near the goal. He was menacing throughout, tearing down the wing at will, with not a single Saint able to halt his progress. Owen was more involved than he has been in recent weeks, and Heskey, well the word sublime is not a word I've used very often when discussing the big number eight, so I'm not going to start now, but he was extremely effective. And in my opinion there is one reason for his impressive display ' he looked confident.
I have recently admitted openly that I wouldn't mind seeing the striker sold in order to fund a move for a more consistent replacement. Spurs have offered £11M, and there aren't many clubs as stupid as them who'll come crawling for the services of the former Leicester hit man. I have said I wouldn't mind us cashing in on him and his performance on Saturday has done little to change my mind. He was magnificent against Southampton, proving he's well capable of terrorising opposing defences, but he just doesn't do it enough, and our frustration lies in his inconsistency. But you get the impression its now crunch time for the enigmatic striker. He's a confidence player, and after this display should now approach the next few games with his head held high. If he scores a few goals, and more importantly performs well, that might go a long way to convincing the Liverpool management that he should be here next season. If not, then who knows.
His name was sung more than most by the Liverpool fans. And for as long as
he wears the Liverpool shirt, he always will be. He's not a problem player,
a superstar with an ego belying his worth, and he deserves our support.
He loves the club and is never outspoken or arrogant, but having said
that neither am I and I don't get many games for the club.
Another positive outcome this week came when Liverpool made what could
turn out to be a massively important signing, bringing Ian Rush back to
the club as a forwards coach. His name was also sung throughout by the
travelling support, and it appears he's had a positive effect on
the forward line already. Movement, alertness and inventiveness in the
final third were married with solidity at the back and competitiveness
and creativity in midfield.
Indeed there was nothing scrappy about this win. There was a fluidity to Liverpool's play that was so refreshing. From the very outset we felt a win was on the cards, and so more importantly did the players. And while I'm not naive enough to assume that every subsequent performance will now match this standard, it's been so long since we've had some football to be proud of, so I'm determined to enjoy it. This performance served as a welcome relief from what we've had to witness over the past six weeks.
Liverpool started the game brightly, certainly not a characteristic of our side in recent times, but within the opening three minutes we'd had three clear cut opportunities to take the lead, through Riise, Owen and Murphy. After some sublime interchanges an opening goal had to come, and when Heskey was brought down by Svensson outside the Southampton area, as soon as Riise stepped over the ball you got the impression the Norwegian wanted to lay certain ghosts to rest. And sure enough, he delivered a quality ball, which was headed goalwards by Heskey, an effort which saw Liverpool go into a lead that was to prove decisive. Half time came and went with the Mighty Reds a goal to the good, and whilst our hosts were slightly more adventurous in the second period, Chris Kirkland's goal was never under any serious threat.
The eleven men Houllier sent in search of that elusive win did the Kopites proud and did themselves justice. So good in fact were they that all were rewarded with a full ninety minute run out. Saints manager Gordon Strachan, undoubtedly my favourite Mancunian due to his comical post match interviews, was gracious in defeat, and rightly so. He even mentioned the phrase 'world class' when talking about one or two of our players. It seems we made quite an impression on the South coast side.
Now I must confess not to have looked at the league table for a month, something I'll gladly do every day when we're on top. But it's just too painful to see the likes of Everton, Tottenham and even lowly Southampton above us in the league. And it's even more painful when we deserve to be below these mediocre teams. But on Saturday we at least leap-frogged one of those clubs, as our opponents Southampton slipped out of the European places at our expense. We've had a torrid time of late, one of the worst I can remember, but we now genuinely have a foundation to build on. It was an absolute pleasure watching Liverpool at Southampton, something I haven't said for a while, and long may it continue.
After the game we learned that unsurprisingly one member of the group had earned himself an arrest. Having been fortunate enough to get in the home section of the ground, following several illegal attempts in the away end, the ticketless youth lasted all of forty minutes in the ground. He had got in the ground with a Saints season ticket and apparently didn't take kindly to being hit with a Mars bar whilst watching the game, and knowing him as I do I'm sure he wasn't shy about expressing his discontent. This altercation saw his predictable early exit, with his record of three arrests from four matches in the south of England not making good reading. His mum must be proud.
As I shuffled down the row towards my seat, I was subjected to glances the likes of which I never thought I'd receive on the Kop, the type I usually reserve for the partially human race that is the early leavers' society. I was made to feel like a part-time supporter, a point of view probably not aided by the fact that my first ever delayed arrival at the game coincided with the first time I had worn a suit at the match. In fact this was the first time I had worn anything but a tracksuit to see my team play.
No one was to know that my late arrival was unavoidable, and due to a far more significant event in my life. My Nan had died nine days earlier, my second grandparent in as many weeks, and the funeral began five hours before the game was due to kick off in a church five hours drive away from Anfield. A late arrival was inevitable. But to those around me I was just an office boy who couldn't resist another half an hour at work, a sycophant, eager to be rewarded by the company big wigs with a winter skiing trip to the Alps with my boss's family. I may as well have arrived with a bottle of Beaujolais and a prawn baguette, as I stood there having swapped all white for pinstripe.
I couldn't help but feel cheated - none of these people looking on in disgust as I arrived knew how loyal I was to Liverpool - that I hadn't missed a game all season. So I felt a sense of injustice at the glances that came my way. It was almost as if I had let my guard down for a second and all of a sudden the collective masses had decided that I no longer belonged at Anfield. As my intense paranoia raged however, little did I know that the performance from my beloved Liverpool that I was set to witness was about to banish all traces of negative emotion, to make my heart swell with pride. Houllier's immortals' at times were simply spellbinding, the performance uniting every single member of the Spion Kop at a time when we needed it most.
As we delighted in this footballing exhibition, it occurred to me that the expression 'opium for the masses', used to describe the influence of football on the working classes in the 1800s suddenly made sense. With Liverpool having gone through their worst period since the fifties we needed this uplifting performance. Indeed those of us who had not missed any of the seven defeats since early November knew exactly what this victory, and the manner in which it was achieved meant for the players, and they knew what it meant for us. Liverpool are back, with consecutive victories ' a resurgence undoubtedly met with a wave of relief from Liverpudlians.
Chris Kirkland had claimed on the eve of this encounter that it was 'payback time'. After having been on the end of a particularly nasty tackle in the first leg, the Liverpool 'keeper was entitled to express his desire for revenge. He wasn't to be disappointed.
Back in 2001, the last of the sixth occasions on which we've won this much-maligned competition, the final was preceded by a semi-final meeting with Crystal Palace. Just as with Sheffield United a fortnight ago, Liverpool lost the first leg 2-1 away from home. This tie was also similar in that the opposing team had a lot to say about Liverpool in between the two ties, little of which needless to say was not derogatory. And it was Neil Warnock, the infamous Sheffield United manager who led the abusive pre-match rantings here.
However just as Palace were humiliated after promising an upset, so too were United, who although they fought bravely couldn't prevent Liverpool notching a convincing 2-0 win on the night.
After the Southampton game I felt we might have turned a corner, that our dismal run, featuring lifeless, embarrassing performances might be behind us, and this game has done little to alter that opinion. Liverpool were marvellous - solid, creative, inventive, reliable and energetic. We outplayed, outbattled, outpassed and outran Warnock's men, who despite a valiant effort were ultimately to be denied.
We started the game well, so I'm reliably informed, with Diouf scoring the game's opening goal, an opportunity which presented itself after United 'keeper Kenny could only parry Michael Owen's seventh minute effort into the path of the oncoming Senegalese striker. He didn't need to be asked twice, slotting the ball in from close range.
|
|
| Click On The Image For A Range Of Liverpool Products |
Liverpool were in control for most of the game, though Scouse hearts began to beat a little quicker than normal for the final five minutes of normal time, when Kirkland handled outside the area, gifting United a lifeline. If they were to score from the resultant free kick they would be rewarded with a place in the final. If they failed to do so, then extra time would almost certainly be played. Substitute Mooney fired his shot into the Liverpool wall to huge cheers of relief from the home support, as another thirty minutes football beckoned.
The cagey half hour that followed saw few goalmouth instances, and it was left to Michael Owen to settle the contest, slotting the ball past Kenny in the second half to begin the Anfield celebrations, as with that strike went United's last glimmer of hope.
As I was flying down the M62 on the way to the game, I received phone call after phone call from fellow Liverpool fans aware of my delayed arrival, eager to relay the news on the contest between the fans. After being subjected to brutality in Yorkshire, Liverpudlians by all accounts got their revenge at Anfield. But with this being yet another secondary source of the evening's events, I wouldn't count on its reliability. And whilst this news together with ludicrous claims from Neil Warnock that he was spat at by Stephane Henchoz dominated the next day's news, I refuse to let such irrelevant incidents cloud over another memorable evening at Anfield. Cardiff prepare yourselves, the Scousers are coming. Oh and England's second team might turn up as well - Manchester some one, I think it is.
The views expressed here are those of the author and are not necessarily endorsed by Soccerphile Ltd.
The Soccerphile World Cup 2002 Archives
Click here to go to the current Soccerphile.com
Soccerphile Ltd - All Rights Reserved
