Well, that was shite.
Why are Liverpool home defeats like London buses…
Just the two changes for the Tricky Reds tonight as they looked to make amends for the dropped points- thanks to the officials- on the south coast earlier in the season, but one of them was enough to get people seriously concerned. Alisson was missing due to an undisclosed illness- the rumour is a dose of Delhi belly. Caoimhin came in; the other change was the return of Bobby in place of Big Div.
The first half opened with a cracking long ball from Henderson which found Mo running in behind and the Egyptian should have made much more of the opportunity. It sailed harmlessly over the bar. After that it was all a bit flat- to be polite- as the home side looked to control possession and tire the opposition, ready to pick them off in the second half.
Indeed, it was the visitors who had the two best chances in the opening forty five minutes, with Burn and Maupay both blasting over when they should have done a lot better.
As the players trudged off for their halftime oranges, we could only hope that our toothless display was part of Jürgen’s master plan. If it wasn’t, we were simply pants.
The second half started much as the first had ended- tediously- but then, ten minutes in, Trossard crossed to Burn, who got in behind Trent, and the lanky left-back’s knock down was deflected off Nat’s boot into Alzate, whose effort took a deflection en route to the net off Trossard. Scrappy would be kind; still, 1-0 to the Seagulls.
With 64 minutes played, Shaq and Gini- both of whom had been anonymous at best- were replaced by Ox and Div. A more direct approach for the last half hour, maybe? Well… no. We did the square root of fuck all for the rest of the game and it really is becoming a worrying trend that we can’t break down mediocre teams at Anfield.
It was also Brighton’s first win at Anfield since March 1982; full credit to tonight’s opponents for defending resolutely and making the most of their forward forays. I hope they stay up. People might look at the scoreline and think this was a proverbial smash and grab but that would be doing our visitors a gross disservice.
Next up is the visit of Manchester Cheaty to Anfield on Sunday afternoon; given the human rights abusers’ recent run of form, with thirteen wins in a row, it’d be a good time to remind everyone who the best team in the country really is. Much will depend on the officials, of course, and it goes without saying that we will have to improve infinitely on the rubbish served up tonight.
The last time we failed to score in three consecutive home games was way back in 1984; surely we won’t make it four on Sunday? The City wankathon has already started; I hope we slap them silly on Sunday.
MOTM: Captain Sir Tom Moore. I’m not by any means sentimental- in fact, I’m a miserable bastard- and an old man dying is hardly news, but this man truly was an inspiration for millions. It’s a pity that he had to raise millions for the chronically underfunded NHS- and the politicians who were so fulsome in their praise should be ashamed of themselves for letting the health service reach such a state in the first place- but he did so with bravery in his heart and a smile on his face. Captain Tom was a true hero; may he rest in peace.