The Soccerphile World Cup 2002 Archives Click here to go to the current Soccerphile.com
12 November 2002
Joel Rookwood
Valencia, West Ham, Southampton
"If the Champions League is an education, then Liverpool are yet to graduate." That was the first newspaper reaction I read this morning after last night's defeat at home to Valencia, a statement that rekindled the pain suffered following last night's game, as I struggled to muster up a reply to the journalist's claim. The Spanish champions were simply awesome, as they were on our visit to the Mestalla stadium six weeks ago. We wanted revenge for that defeat, to inflict upon our opponents the kind of pain the six hundred hearty souls who traveled to Spain suffered that night. But it just wasn't to be.
There are few occasions when I must admit to being embarrassed watching Liverpool. But last night, or at least a portion of it, unfortunately proved to be one of those instances. When Barcelona beat us so comprehensively at Anfield in last season's competition, it was hard to take, but they were so good that night, there was no wonder the Kop merely stood and applauded the Catalonians' display as they ran our team ragged.
Last night served as a case of deja vu. The Spanish outfit was outstanding in the first half, taking the lead through Francisco Rufete, with the one goal proving all the Spaniards needed to secure the victory. Pablo Aimar was superb, as were at least ten of his teammates, as they toyed with a naive-looking Liverpool side. Indeed Valencia's performance belied the bookies opinion of them who have them at 8-1 for Champions League glory. If there is a better side in Europe right now, I'd like to see them.
We clearly respected the Spanish champions, but it was an admiration that bordered on trepidation, as our trips into the Spaniards' half proved all too infrequent. We played like a side a goal up away from home, content to let our opponents retain possession and mount the odd attack. Unfortunately we were at home and a goal down, struggling to come to terms with the slickness of Valencia's passing game. The goal, when it came had an air of inevitability about it, much to the delight of the coach load of Spanish fans who had made the journey to Merseyside, with the visitors well worthy of their lead. What a delight it must be to follow this team - as if a 5-1 drubbing of Bilbao at the weekend wasn't enough, their fans are then treated to a famous victory at fortress Anfield.
Following a dire first half, the inevitable changes in the second period saw some improvement, with Cheyrou, Baros and Smicer replacing Murphy, Carragher and Heskey. But the game was lost in midfield, and won by half time, as Liverpool's display in the first half was nothing short of appalling. We were outplayed in all areas, but it was the lack of effort more than invention that vexed me. The shape of the midfield looked imbalanced, with Gerrard and Murphy looking lost in their wide midfield positions. On the plus side, we defended well enough, and the second period was infinitely more pleasing than what went before it. In truth though, it couldn't have been much worse.
The Valencia captain and goalkeeper Santiago Canizares was in inspired form throughout, and if it wasn't for his brilliant intervention, we might have actually secured a respectable draw, as we pressed for an equaliser in the latter stages. We created chances but it looked a day where we were destined not to find the net. However, to play that poorly for such a long period of the game against one of Europe's finest teams, and to have only lost by a single goal is heartening. And whilst the visitors looked impregnable at the back as well as majestic in midfield and irresistible upfront, to have created enough chances to level the game also serves as cause for hope.
Clearly frustrated by our team's reaction to the excellence of the La Liga side, the Kop sang 'who the f@#!ing hell are you', desperate to assert themselves as a factor in the game. And whilst the noise was deafening, the performance of our team couldn't match that of those on the terraces. Our achievements in the past are notable, and our current squad is promising. We're in an excellent position to win one of Europe's best leagues this season. But it must be said that it won't be Europe's best league. The Champions League will I fear prove a step to far this season, whether we progress from this group or not.
Valencia have beaten us comprehensively twice, and have reached the final of this competition on the two occasions they have been in it. I would certainly subscribe to the view that they seem destined to make it three in a row this season. As long as they avoid Real Madrid, I see no reason why a place in the final at Old Trafford in May is beyond them. So the Kop learnt who they were last night. They are Valencia and they're a joy to watch, and extremely difficult to even score against, never mind beat.
We may have been defeated and subsequently demoralised, in all probability rendering a victory in Basle a necessity if we are to progress. But we had to win on the final day in the last two group stages of this competition, so the position we have left ourselves in is not unfamiliar, with our tendency to win when it really matters instilling hope in our hearts. We have undoubtedly left ourselves with an uphill struggle, and if we do not qualify for the next stage of the competition, then UEFA Cup football and the league title will be our priority, which may not be a bad thing. We are by no means down and out, and if we progress in a fortnight's time we'll have a good chance of making the knockout stages whoever we're drawn against, but I think the two games against Valencia have proven that we aren't quite up to beating a team of such quality yet, so dreams of lifting the trophy in Man United's back yard in May, may not become a reality. But lest we forget, this is only our second venture in this rejuvenated competition, and we're still learning. Our time will come.
When you're in need of a morale-boosting win there's nothing better than when the fixture list throws up a home tie against a team three points off the bottom, notorious for not travelling particularly well. So the prospect of playing West Ham United at home, on paper at least served as a welcome break from tough European contests. The Londoners even lost to Everton recently - at home, so surely they couldn't cause any problems for Houllier's men at Anfield?
West Ham fans are clearly disgruntled with their current plight, and seem set on taking out their frustrations on under fire manager Glenn Roeder. But singing about 'Glenn Roeder's army' and then chanting 'we want Roeder out' in the next instance as they did on Saturday is typically nonsensical behaviour from the Londoners, something I just cannot figure out.
The Cockneys also came with the usual array of unoriginal chants, 'sign on, sign on', 'get to work you lazy c$!ts', 'we've got Di Canio, you've robbed our stereo' and 'you're supposed to be in gaol.' We were also treated to a round of 'oi Scouse, there's no roof on your house'. Now I'd laugh at songs like this if they were original, and I'd accept them more readily if they came from supporters of Chelsea or Man United, who I'm sure live in more plush surroundings than we do. But our annual walk round Upton Park in search of a suitable alehouse (an expedition that incidentally seldom bares fruit), rarely leaves the impression that London's East End is particularly more attractive than the city the Cockneys call a 'small town in Tranmere'. Talk of 'Liverpool slums' is downright cheeky coming from them.
Unlike their fans, West Ham have been in untypical form this season, struggling at home with slightly more success away from Upton Park, an antithetical plight to what the Londoners have become accustomed to in recent times. Yet with Liverpool beaten only once in the last twenty-nine league games, and Di Canio and Kanoute injured for the visitors, the Hammers were always going to struggle to make an impact on the game. Under fire boss Roeder opted to leave former Anfield favourite, Titi Camara on the bench and pack the midfield in an attempt to restrict the Liverpool midfield.
But West Ham could have played eight across the middle, and they still wouldn't have got the ball off Didi Hamman. He was that good. Again. And with Gerrard rested, Smicer had a chance to shine, an opportunity he grasped with both hands, with the Czech midfielder looking lively throughout. Winning the battle in the middle, albeit with little resistance from the promising yet ineffective duo of Carrick and Cole, we were always going to create chances. And it became obvious from the early stages that Michael Owen was in the mood to capitalise upon any weaknesses presented, and there were many. Another former Liverpool player David James produced a few good saves from the European player of the year, but midway through the first half, Owen proved too much for the England keeper, and was rewarded for his industry with the opening goal. It was Smicer who threaded the ball through to Owen before the twenty-two year old took on the West Ham defence and slotted home with aplomb, with the partnership of Ian Pearce and Tomas Repka looking decidedly shaky.
Ten minutes into the second half, with the home side firmly in control, Liverpool grabbed a second. Again it was the lively Smicer who received the ball from Sami Hyypia and played it into Owen, who rounded the keeper before slicing a shot that seemed to take an eternity to reach the West Ham goal line. And despite the best efforts of Christian Dailly, the finish served as Owen's eleventh goal of the season. The number ten later went close to getting his fifth hattrick for his club in five weeks, but in the end a third goal eluded both him and Liverpool. So the Liverpool faithful had to settle for the 2-0 win, putting us seven points clear at the top of the table. There are some happy Scousers around here I can tell you.
The West Ham fans appeared extremely disgruntled with the afternoon's events, reacting absurdly when substitute Diouf spat at the floor - admittedly in their direction but a good fifteen yards from them - after they'd booed him persistently and without any conceivable motive as he ran up and down the touchline preparing for an appearance. I'm sure though, at least ten West Ham fans will now make statements to police claiming to have been injured by this 'savage attack'. I can't help but think of the half a dozen Arsenal fans who claimed to have been hit by the single pound coin thrown by Jamie Carragher into the Highbury crowd last season. Reminiscent of this apparently monstrous behaviour, I have no doubt that Diouf's actions will have left a painful watermark on several Londoners, scarring them for life, after the Senegalese striker's record distance, performing in the world gobbing contest. The Cockneys who got thrown out were deserving of the strict police action they received, with the remaining fans clearly intent on directing some abuse at Roeder, singing 'you don't know what your doing' after Defoe was substituted for the visitors.
Some people, including West Ham fans, seem very quick to judge Hammers
manager Glenn Roeder, criticizing him for his lack of tactical nous. Observers
look at the players he has at his disposal; Sinclair, Carrick, Cole, Lomas,
Hutchinson, Kanoute, Defoe, and of course Di Canio, and wonder how West
Ham keep failing to get results. Yet while these are all undoubtedly good
players, how many defenders are in that list? Successful teams are built
on a solid defensive foundation. Within months of Houllier's arrival as the Liverpool manager, he secured the services of Hyypia and Henchoz,
a partnership that has been the backbone of our success, and will possibly
see a title win or two. Conversely, West Ham's back four just isn't good
enough to keep Premiership attackers at bay. And when you start conceding,
you start losing. Then confidence drains, and good players, suffering
from a lack of self-belief, begin to look average. That just about sums
up West Ham's current plight
But criticisms of Roeder's approach are not entirely devoid of foundation. The West Ham boss does make mistakes. His approach against Liverpool was focused so much on stopping the opposition, he forgot about maybe having a go at the weak elements of Liverpool's team. The East London side are packed full of attacking talent, yet they didn't play to their strengths. Jerzy Dudek must have been freezing in that Liverpool goal, with only a handful of chances being fashioned by the Hapless Hammers. So when Liverpool went two up, and then took the foot off the gas, letting the clock run down, the game looked as if it might fizzle out as a spectacle.
Though just as the match seemed destined for an uneventful conclusion, a man who was sitting a few rows in front of me jumped up suddenly, ripped off his clothes with unbelievable speed, ran on the pitch and made a dart towards the centre circle, amid huge cheers from every man, woman and child in Anfield. The streaker then made for the Kop, and kicked the ball into the goal at the Spion Kop end, no doubt realising a life long dream in the process, with the Kop cheering the goal fervently. I'm sure I wasn't alone though, in feeling a sense of jealousy as the ball sailed over the line. I can't have been the only Liverpool fan to wish it was them who had just ran onto the pitch and scored, with the sentiment 'Rooney is an arsehole', painted on their back. But then when you envy a man running around naked in front of 45,000 people, you realise you need help.
It's the first time I've seen a streaker at a Liverpool game since, well, last season, when five fat stewards took a good two minutes to remove a naked man from the pitch at a reserve meeting between Liverpool and Man United. Like the appearance of a flare on a cold night of European football, seeing the humorous sight of a streaker at Anfield is indeed both a rarity and a treat. Furthermore, the man referred to in my part of the ground as 'Hitler' - the power-crazy head steward for the Paddock enclosure - was clearly embarrassed that his team of supervisors had let it happen, which rendered the experience even more amusing. And the anti-Everton slogan keeping the blue half of Merseyside in their place served as the icing on the cake.
So after starting the season playing attractive, free flowing football, conceding goals and picking up draws instead of wins, we seem to have reverted back to the more tried and tested method of grinding out results through hard graft and defensive stability - subsequently getting results without conceding. And while the football world still talks about the 'mighty Arsenal' and the goal-scoring sensation that is Wayne Rooney, Liverpool can quietly go about their business. Some reds fans get frustrated by the media's refusal to praise the Anfield outfit, but the more Liverpool can get on with their football without being talked about, the more likely the unpressurised situation we subsequently find ourselves in will contribute to the acquisition of that elusive first title win in a dozen years.
Wednesday night meant a stroll out in the much-maligned Worthington Cup, with the visit of Southampton. The occasion was quite simply a non-event; the pubs were dead, the ground was dead, even the Kop was dead. Liverpool made ten changes to the team that beat West Ham on Saturday, with the in-form Saints naming a virtually unchanged team that narrowly lost at Man United at the weekend. Yet it was Liverpool in the ascendancy from start to finish, with a number of players clearly out to prove a point. Unfortunately one or two proved only that they simply aren't good enough to play for this great club. The individuals concerned weren't the only people who failed to perform on the night however. To say I've seen better atmospheres at reserves games would be an overstatement, but only just. The Kop was subdued to say the least, and required a few goals to ignite it. But the three that were scored by men in red shirts still did nothing to fan the flames. It was just one of those nights.
The first half was about as boring a period of football I've ever seen at Anfield. The football was not the best quality and what there was, was played at a pace that even Jan Molby wouldn't have struggled to cope with. Liverpool's opening goal was scored by the forgotten man - Patrick Berger, whose deflected free-kick gave the home side the lead on the stroke of half-time. Southampton threatened to level on several occasions in the second period, but were thwarted by a succession of first class saves from stand-in keeper Chris Kirkland. The England U21 starlet did his reputation no harm, both on the pitch and also in the press the following day, admitting he is still a long way from dislodging the number one keeper at Anfield, acknowledging the superiority of Jerzy Dudek.
The early part of the second half saw the Saints pile the pressure on Liverpool, and in the end the home side's lightweight midfield and slightly unorganised defence could not withstand the onslaught. The equalising goal came from Delgado after the Merseysiders' defence failed on several occasions to clear the ball. However just as the handful of Saints fans in the Anfield Road end began a rendition of 'you're not singing anymore', Milan Baros ran straight through the Southampton defence and provided the simplest of opportunities for Diouf to slot home past the helpless Neimi in the Southampton goal. Then three minutes later the best move of the night saw Liverpool secure a two-goal cushion, with Baros determined as ever top get on the act, forcing his way onto the score sheet, as he seems to whenever he plays. Observers at that point could have been forgiven for thinking they were witnessing a practice match, after seeing three goals in the space of five second half minutes. Furthermore the level of noise in the stadium lent itself to a similar conclusion.
Subsequently one Kopite took it upon himself to lift the crowds' spirits, and performed a personal entertainment show, stripping down to his underwear and running up and down the steps of the Kop. As we stood in hysterics at the man's tomfoolery, I realised that there was something magical about that moment, as thousands of Liverpudlians joined the on looking stewards in laughing and applauding the man's impulsive exploits. It is the kind of stupid act of spontaneous humour that is so quintessentially Scouse, and it made me think of the good old days of standing on the Kop, where impromptu acts such as those were a feature not a rarity. That individual will never realise it, but he gave me, and no doubt many other Kopites a reason to smile as we left the stadium, for the game was a non-event, but we had won and we had been entertained, albeit briefly by a partially insane, but wholly thoroughbred Liverpudlian.
In all honesty the final whistle was greeted with a sigh of relief by most supporters, as we could forget about the 'worthless cup' and get on with facing the freezing north Liverpool wind and get home as quickly as we could to a warming brandy or two. Talking of bleak conditions, I hear a trip to Middlesbrough is next on the agenda. Still we should get battered on the train on the way up, so it's not all bad ....
The views expressed here are those of the author and are not necessarily endorsed by Soccerphile Ltd.
Southampton, Blackburn, Preston & Newcastle, Birmingham City, Valencia, West Bromwich Albion, Spartak Moscow, Chelsea, The Fields of Anfield Road, Leeds United, West Ham, Middlesbrough, Fulham, Ipswich & Charlton, Vitesse, Sunderland & Villa, The Derby, Blackburn & Arsenal, Newcastle, Man City, Sheffield Utd & Villa, Southampton and Sheffield Utd, Crystal Palace & Arsenal, West Ham, Auxerre, Manchester United, Bolton, Spurs, Man Utd Again, Hillsborough Remembered, Everton, Charlton.
Monochrome Images from the Far East
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