I thought it would be fun, at least therapeutic, to share what it's like in my head through most Liverpool matches. This doesn't just apply to this year, because other than last season, most Liverpool seasons have been really hard to get through. Benitez's last season, the Hodgson thing with Dalglish coming in, Dalglish's only season, Rodgers's first season, and now this one, that's five of the last six. Combine that with a lot of Benitez's and Houllier's campaigns being slogs at times, and I've had a lot of practice at this. It might sound familiar to you as well.
This isn't about matches like vs. Chelsea or Madrid last week. That's a whole new set of panic and emotion where you're basically waiting for the psycho who's been pointing a gun at you for a while to finally fire. This is more the frustrating, flat performances against teams Liverpool should be beating but don't, that I've witnessed now hundreds of.
Pregame: This extends to the night before, especially when the match kicks off early in the morning here in the Colonies. Though I've watched Liverpool be wretched the past couple weeks, by the time I go to bed I'll have convinced myself that Hull/Villa/Fulham/Newcastle/Hellen Keller All-Stars are the perfect squad for Liverpool to get it right against, and that I'll look back in a few months as the point "it all turned around." I'll do this over several months. The hour before the match is spent looking frustratingly at the lineup picked, because there's assuredly a player who hasn't been picked that I'm convinced will change everything (currently Borini just because of his mobility, but if I were to go back and actually explore this list I'd probably break down and cry. I know Suso, Ryan Babel, Aquilani, and at times Jermaine Pennant were on it, amongst a whole other host of legends I assure you. You can't win them all). Not seeing those names fills me with a new layer of dread on top of the layer of dread I was just making my way through.
Kickoff: A brief moment of relaxation, as at least all the prep and speculation and anticipation is now over. All I have to do now is watch. This feeling of calmness lasts about 13 seconds. But during those 13 seconds, I stop worrying about the lineup, get behind the boys, and think "Well even if I'm wrong (as if I ever could be), there's certainly enough talent out there to get a result today." After those 13 seconds I'm back to swearing at Martin Skrtel and Glen Johnson (you can replace these names with a whole host of others throughout the years).
Minutes 1-10: Still hoping for a fast start leading to a true blowing the doors off an opponent. I'll take any half-chance as a sign that they've gotten things right and it's only going to get better from here. They've come out of the traps quick and it's only a matter of time before they score (they most certainly have not, but the delusion runs deep).
Minutes 10-20: Ok, so that fast start I was hoping for, an early goal to settle the nerves isn't coming. That's ok though, Liverpool are controlling things and don't look under threat (in my mind at this time, being completely non-threatening and not having the keeper completely under assault constitutes control in my mind. Like I said, the delusion runs deep during a match). Maybe the stroll through the park isn't coming, but sometimes teams have to win 1-0 or 2-0 and that's still right here for the taking. Yep, for sure.
Minutes 20-30: Ok, a little uneasy now at the lack of threat that Liverpool are showing. By this point the opposition has at least fired one warning shot that's just gone over the bar or had a period of actual threat that I merely dismiss as a result of a well-crafted counter instead of Liverpool's failings. Still in control, still in their hands, though the opposition keeper is reading a racing form at this point (delusion, people).
Minutes 30-40: Feel like I've seen this movie before. Liverpool's moves break down earlier and earlier if they even start. Hunger really is the only thing I feel now.
Minute 40-Half: Just get into half without doing something completely stupid. 0-0 with 45 to go isn't the worst thing! Good teams find a way in the latter stages (all the while knowing that Liverpool aren't one of these teams, but I've pushed that feeling down all the way into my ankles).
Half: Deciding on the subs I would make, and I'm never wrong.
Minutes 45-55: Generally a brief spasm of optimism as Liverpool start the half decently, and by decently I mean actually get the ball into the opposition's penalty area. Usually a half-hearted penalty shout at this point, and at the end of the match this will be the worst decision by a referee in the history of time.
Minutes 55-65: Though I'm sure it's not true, this always feels like where Liverpool give away an utterly stupid goal. But I say to myself, "Ok, you can't keep a clean sheet every match (or any), and maybe that'll snap them into gear and the momentum from an equalizer will carry them to a second and a third. We'll laugh about this deficit soon!" There's still 30-35 minutes left, plenty of time.
Minutes 65-75: You realize that Liverpool wouldn't score an equalizer/winner if this match were three days long.
Minutes 75-85: Even though just 10 minutes earlier I admitted they would never score, some sub or chance sucks me right back in and I'm baying at the screen and slapping the couch in anger.
Minutes 85-Final Whistle: Hands on head, probably standing at this point, ready to sacrifice my girlfriend for a goal. I will not feel bad about this thought when they don't get one. I am not a good person.
Final Whistle: Even after half an hour of accepting that Liverpool wouldn't find the goal they need, the whistle still brings depression and anger. Fire a gatorade bottle full of water across the apartment. Walk across the apartment, pick up bottle, and fire it back from where I originally threw it from. The circle is complete.
Do it all again next week.
Loading comments...