Odd Talisman Out

Without wishing to alarm anyone, Liverpool fans are pregnant. All of them. Not with lazy, curly-haired stereotypes (although you never know, I suppose), but with expectation. The potency of the second Kenny Dalglish era is powerful stuff.

The rise to fifth (now down to sixth after the Spurs defeat) from 12th in the space of four months has been achieved without former talisman Fernando Torres and, more recently, with club captain Steven Gerrard sat in the stands. While Gerrard came out all guns blazing last week, he hasn’t played a game since 6 March and can only ‘pencil in’ a return for the first day of pre-season. The big question for Liverpool is how Gerrard fits back into what has become a very efficient, very effective starting XI.

Teams That Made Us Fall In Love With Football #5: Liverpool 1988-90

Rob might delight in bullying him for it, but friend of Magic Spongers Alex Bingle really does love Liverpool. They did used to be quite good, after all...

Sometimes, I sit racking my brains as to why I love football. Why does the result of one football team starkly determine my general mood for the following week? Almost a fortnight ago, for example, I sat there scratching my head after Liverpool’s dire showing at West Ham. After all, we have looked rather good in recent weeks, with a certain style to our play that reminds me why I love football in the first place. Football, though, has a funny way of turning my normal calm composure into an angry tirade of expletives. I was screaming at Kenny Dalglish (well, the television) to substitute Steven Gerrard, who was woeful. All the good work of the last few weeks undone in 90 minutes and there was me shouting at the two people voted Liverpool’s greatest ever players because Scott Parker was running rings around them.

The Man Who Would Be King

"This is going to be a piece of piss."

As the sky turned pitch black, the air grew heavy and the heavens opened, a deafening chorus of “Hallelujah” rang out. For a second, it seemed like a genuine second coming as the Shankly Gates rocked and the memory of the hunched, nervous little figure with the unfortunate lisp and penchant for rubbing his face really hard became nothing but a nightmare. “It’s over now,” they said. “The king has returned.” And the king held his hands aloft and the people did flock to him in multitudes and make big banners, reassured at once that they were in the presence of greatness.