Liverpool Red Diary 26

by Joel Rookwood

If there is one side in the Premier league I'm glad I don't support it's Tottenham. There's never anything remarkable about being a Spurs fan. They never experience a relegation dogfight, they haven't won the league in about three hundred years, and European football comes around at White Heart Lane about as often as it does at Goodison Park. It's just season after season of monotonous mediocrity. Sure they have the odd good result and buy the odd gifted player, but whoever they're managed by they never seem to climb out of this tedious run, imprisoned within the confines of their meaningless existence. So Glenn Hoddle appears therefore to be the ideal Tottenham boss, and I'm sure he'll remain in charge until the board finally decide they've got a slice of ambition in their lacklustre souls and appoint a new manager who will doubtless deliver much of the same.

Well that's me having made an enemy of every Tottenham fan unfortunate enough to run his eyes over this highly subjective drivel. So to all you Yids out there (a self-confessed nickname), a thousand apologies – I just can't help myself. It's nothing personal - I just despise your club that's all.

So anyway, it was heavy sighs all round when the evil force that is the fixture list threw a trip to Tottenham our way on Sunday, where the atmosphere at White Heart Lane was as ever funeral-esque. However surprisingly enough the game itself was fairly compelling viewing, and for once therefore I will (at least attempt to) base my reaction to the weekend's encounter on matters that transpired on the pitch.

Houllier named an unchanged side from that which was so impressive in Celtic, and his selection policy so nearly paid dividends when Owen struck on twenty-five minutes, only to see Keller in the Tottenham goal prevent Liverpool from securing a first half advantage. Then minutes later Gerrard also went close to opening the scoring, but saw his shot fly inches wide of the post, after an impressive build up.

Short of this, the first half was relatively quiet, but the game soon came to life early in the second period. Tottenham took the lead moments after the break, when Dudek spilled a Taricco shot into the net. But before we could even consider the possibility of whether this was set to be just 'one of those days', within three minutes Owen finished from close range, latching onto an exceptional Ste Gerrard cross to draw the scores level.

The impressive midfielder also set up Liverpool's second goal, with Heskey the happy recipient of an excellent cross, which the powerful front man head goal wards to secure his second strike in as many games. But just when you suspected Liverpool would ease off the pressure and settle for a 2-1 win, that man Gerrard set off again on an inspired run from inside his own half, and finished himself from eighteen yards with aplomb to effectively kill off the game. Tottenham did grab a late consolation through Sherringham, but it never proved to be the catalyst of a frantic finale it might have turned into, leaving Liverpool free to return home proud of a good day's work. I'm sure however Celtic will be asking some far tougher questions of Houllier's side this coming Thursday.Whenever Celtic are in town, everyone knows about it. The colour, the noise, the unique blend of Drunken Irishmen and Glaswegians - they're a cracking set of fans and not for the first time, they certainly left their mark on Liverpool when they came to Anfield on Thursday.

Clearly aware of the reputation that goes before them, we had decided to go out early in the afternoon, in a bid to make the visitors feel as welcome as they made us feel, when enjoying their hospitality in Glasgow. Many of them were bladdered by midday, and those who weren't made sure they were sufficiently inebriated before leaving for Anfield later that afternoon. That evening the Albert pub outside the ground contained a good mix of red and green and we were both hard pressed to make ourselves heard above the excited chatter, as we bid to ensure our singing performance triumphed over theirs.

But as I walked in the ground, where, due to tickets being so scarce, I was to sit alone, I must admit to being slightly nervous about the game. We had claimed such a valuable away draw a week earlier, but I feared that the crowd as much as the team would underestimate our Scottish visitors, who were cheered on by Hoops fans in every stand of Anfield, even our own Spion Kop.

After another memorable rendition of You'll Never Walk Alone, following the breathtaking recital last week in Glasgow, the teams got to work on the thing that really mattered – the match. As no sooner as we were shaking the tingles down our spines, we became focused on the game, which was played in the early stages at a ferocious pace.

It was Liverpool who drew first blood, with Hamman's fine effort whistling past Douglas's post in the Celtic goal. Gerrard also came close to putting the home side in a commanding lead, as did Heskey, but Celtic stood strong. The Scots replied in kind with Sylla firing just wide of the post. It was a warning sign clearly not heeded by Houllier's side, as Celtic through the former Bolton man Alan Thompson took the lead just before the interval. After the Glaswegians had been awarded a free-kick just outside the area, the cowardly wall leapt in the air as the grateful Geordie took full advantage, keeping his driven shot low and accurate, as it flew into the Liverpool goal to stun the onlooking Liverpudlians.

With Diouf's misdemeanour in the first leg earning him a two match ban, Smicer replaced the Senegalese international in the Liverpool midfield for this game, but ten minutes into the second half, the Czech was replaced by crowd favourite Milan Baros, who entered the field to rapturous applause. Smicer meanwhile left the field of play no doubt dejected with his already shaken confidence receiving a further battering. But needs must, and Liverpool needed a goal, so it was the right thing to do. I for one however doubted the goal would come. It looked in all honesty like that all-important strike would prove beyond Liverpool, as we just never looked like finding the net.

But Celtic, adopting the stance many wish Liverpool would, refused to sit on their lead and instead went in search of the goal which would surely see them progress to the semi-finals. In some peoples' eyes attack is the best form of defence. Larsson went close to finding that goal, but saw his seventy-fifth minute header pushed away by Dudek in the Liverpool goal as the Kop breathed a sigh of relief. But minutes later the Pole was unable to keep out a John Hartson header, which saw Liverpool crash out, leaving the locals heartbroken.

At Celtic Park we had expressed a vocal prophesy of a trip to Seville, but we had clearly forgot that we had to overcome Celtic over two legs to even progress to the semi-final never mind the conclusive stage of the competition. So as it turned out we should have been singing, 'tell me ma, me ma to knock Seville on the head, we'll go to West Brom instead, tell me ma, me ma'.

I can laugh now, but the mile and a half walk home from the ground after the game was not a particularly comfortable trail. I've sailed through that journey before, regardless of the weather, when we have gained a famous victory, or even just a victory, but tonight, it felt like an epic trek through a dark and dangerous storm.

For as the Celtic fans dotted around the ground joined with their fellow supporters in the Anfield Road in celebrating this famous victory, the most painful but necessary thing to do was to congratulate their fans. When we crashed out of the Champions League quarterfinal last year in Germany, it was hard to fight back the tears and sing 'Leverkusen, Leverkusen, Leverkusen', in acknowledgement of the fact that the Bundasliga side deservedly went through to meet Man United in the semi finals at our expense. But it had to be done, and they were impressed albeit slightly baffled by this show of sportsmanship. So I shook the hand of everyone I passed on my way out of the Kop who was dressed in green, and wished them good luck for the next leg. After we had beaten St Etienne in a legendary game at Anfield in the 1977 European Cup quarterfinal, crowds of Frenchmen came to Rome to support us in the final. And if Celtic reach the final in Spain in May, in all probability we'll end up going to support them there - If I could choose anyone to have been knocked us out, it would be Celtic.

A middle-aged Scot was gracious enough to accompany me on the lonely walk towards town after the game, as we discussed the game and football in general. He made that half hour less painful than it could have been, and for that I'm very grateful. But that doesn't change the fact that we're out of Europe, and in an ultra-disappointing fashion. It's not that Celtic were brilliant in the second leg, far from it in fact, but our premature exit in truth owed more to our lack of inclination in the Anfield encounter as anything else. A mate of mine, who does match analysis at the club in association with Prozone, told me that Liverpool ran 16 kilometres less than their Scottish counterparts over the course of the evening. That's over a kilometre a man less, (which I'm sure you can work out yourself, but I just wanted to emphasise the fact). If you don't play the game, I can tell you, that's a big difference. And to know your side has gone out of Europe due principally to a lack of effort is something no Liverpudlian can accept.

But despite this worrying statistic, I refuse to berate the team, the management or the fans – it's not in our nature. We're out and me must take it on the chin and learn from this experience, and come back stronger in September. And as for the stage in which we will get the chance to prove whether we have progressed following this largely sorry season to date, well that remains to be decided. One thing for certain though is that our performances in our final league games have now assumed even greater importance. No excuses, no mistakes, no defeats. Is that too much to ask?It's happened at last. After three months of waiting, Liverpool have finally overtaken neighbours Everton in the league. And whilst the Toffees were a shade unlucky to come away from Highbury on Sunday with nothing to show for their valiant efforts, Liverpool cruised to a 3-1 victory at home to struggling Leeds United, leapfrogging our rivals from across Stanley Park in some style. Everton have undoubtedly come of age this season, a fact of which the Gunners were clearly acutely aware, as the North bank whistled nervously in the closing stages, keen for their Arsenal side to hold the lead and take the three precious points which could go a long way to see them retain their title. The Goodison derby in a month's time now certainly looks like being the most eagerly awaited game between the two sides in recent years, with both going head to head for European places.

But there is a lot of football to be played between now and then, and Liverpool's win against Peter Reid's new side on Sunday, lifting us to the lofty heights of fifth place in the league, was an important win, as Houllier and co attempt to prove the season is far from over, after a soul-destroying European exit in midweek.

Liverpool started excellently, with the football in the opening period as good as anything we've seen from a Liverpool side this season. After twelve minutes we could have been four up, but had to settle instead for one, with the brilliant Michael Owen finishing a move that started with the impressive Steven Gerrard. The number ten finished coolly after exchanging passes with Diouf to set the home side on their way. Seven minutes later Murphy scored Liverpool's second, a brilliant strike that served to silence the disgruntled Leeds support, as the home fans by comparison were just wondering how many we would win by. Rarely have I witnessed such a one-sided first half, and yet Liverpool, and more specifically Heskey spurned chance after chance to add to the lead. It should have been five by half time – at least, but Houllier's side unfortunately failed to add to their lead before the break.

Needless to say the Leeds fans weren't exactly impressed with the afternoon's events, and weren't exactly shy about expressing their concerns. Yet despite the fact that several players appeared uninterested in the game, none were singled out for criticism. With former Everton legend Peter Reid now in charge at Leeds you would think that this managerial shuffle would spark some life into the Yorkshire side. But with Reid only given eight games in charge, until a full time position is offered in the summer, it appears many of the players aren't particularly keen to impress the new manager. I doubt this laziness will last however.

The frustrations of the Leeds fans were instead taken out on the board, and more specifically Peter Risdale. Cries of ''Risdale out', 'Support the team, sack the board', 'Risdale are you happy now?', and 'What the f$!k is going on?' could be heard from the visiting support. And when they got bored of criticising the board, they reverted to a more typical Leeds approach, as the racial abuse started to flow.

It's seen as acceptable racial abuse though, so they won't be punished. 'You're French and you're scared to fight', was the song that started it, a chant aimed at the Liverpool manager, who I'm sure in true Liverpool style took it as a criticism of his side's display and not of his country's politics. When you're at the match, football is all that matters. The Leeds fans then went one worse, clearly keen to forget they were there to watch their club side play, by singing 'Keep Saint George in my heart keep me English', 'England, England, England' and 'No surrender to the IRA.' What they were going on about is open to debate, but why they bothered with such unenlightened idiocy - well that's just a mystery that non-Yorkshiremen such as myself will never fathom. And then when they started singing 'Are you Celtic in disguise?' – well that just didn't make any sense. Someone should have pointed out that the Glasgow side in fact beat us, as I don't think the Leeds fans realised. I shouldn't have been surprised though as I don't think they watch football, for they certainly didn't seem to pay much attention to the second half.

Talking of which, annoyingly, after such domination in the opening period, Liverpool allowed the visitors a brief spell of possession, which incredibly they capitalised upon. Riise failed to clear the ball in the box, after which both Wilcox and Viduka had attempts blocked before the latter eventually found the Liverpool net. The home side were subsequently stunned into action however and created several opportunities to restore the two-goal cushion. Frustratingly numerous clear cut chances were again squandered, before Owen, who had clearly had enough of the inept finishing, picked up the ball and ran at the Leeds defence before crossing to the one player who looked like he might be able to hit the target from ten yards, as Steven Gerrard got on the end of the cross and supplied to coolest of finishes.

So, pleasingly, Liverpool responded well to the disappointment of the Celtic game with a deserved win, which was far more emphatic than the score-line suggests. The return of Diouf served to illustrate how sorely he was missed on Thursday. But even with him in the side, too many other Liverpool players had off games for us to have won that match. Against Leeds however normal service, if Liverpool can call a home win normal service this season, was resumed. We now have seven cup finals to make that fourth champions league spot our own. Win all seven and it'll be Barcelona instead of Bucharest come September.

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