Neutral LFC
Senior Squad
A friend of mine passed this on to me, it's written by Alan Edge and will hopefully cheer up my few fellow Pool fans here and also give them something to think about. It's excellently written.
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STAND BY YOUR MAN
There is, of course, no magic wand here. This is neither Camelot nor Middle Earth.
Sadly, we are not about to witness Merlin transform our team overnight into some passable reincarnation of late fifties/early sixties Real Madrid. There will be no magical triumvirate of Francisco Gento, Ferenc Puskas and Alfredo Di Stefano to suddenly launch a calvacade of sublimity down our left flank, tear any opposition to shreds and whisk us back up that league table faster than Clive Tyldesley can lick the entire circumference of Alex Ferguson's arse. Nor shall we see that wizard of the moment, Gandalf, miraculously appearing from beyond some far eastern sky shrouded in gold to convince Igor Biscan that all along he really was Zizi Zidane but with some chronic case of stiff limb syndrome and an even worse haircut.
And all those evil Blue and Manc bastards currently besieging our fortress like a legion of heinous orgs from the very bowels of the earth? Well, even more regrettably neither is Hollywood about to loan us a film set load of elves and indestructible super heroes to wipe them all out at a single merciful stroke.
No. 'Fraid not.
The truth is that what has been happening to our club through this increasingly bleak midwinter is our reality. We're stuck with it. Fact is we're in a crisis. And it's not nice. Not nice at all.
So let us reflect for a moment on the bare sombre facts. As I write on the eve of our visit to Maine Road, it is ten league games without a solitary victory - six defeats and four draws. Elimination from the money-laden Champions League. On the face of it disastrous. Unacceptable, some are saying. Well let's be frank, shall we? In football, such things, I'm afraid, can happen. This is not Championship Manager. Even the very best can fall prey to downward spirals, losing belief and confidence as defeat follows defeat and lady luck - and even lord luck for that matter - seems to have all but deserted you.
Mind you, for all that such a sequence is undoubtedly bad and unpalatable, it is not, significantly, the nub of our current problem and demise. Ours is, rather, one of footballing philosophy. Our current playing style sucks. What's more it has led to an unpredictability of fortune against even the weakest opposition that simply beggars belief.
Fact is, the current Liverpool team is actually playing no better nor worse now than it was when we 'appeared' to be 'comfortably' top of the league in October. Games we won back then, we could quite easily have lost. Just as - and Phil Thompson quite rightly pointed this out a week or so ago - games we have recently lost we could quite easily have won. On balance we are actually getting no more or no less than we deserve. Our points tally is about right. It fairly reflects our performances. Indeed, if anything, it is arguably higher than we actually merit based on, say, boxing's points scoring criteria. Fact is, this season, mediocrity has been our watchword.
It just so happens that this mediocrity has arrived in a rather weird fashion. A spate of wins and draws followed by a spate of defeats and draws. If you reflect fairly upon our performances since the start of the season then the biggest surprise is that anybody is really surprised at all at how things have begun to pan out. In the final analysis you get out of football what you put into it. Some of the inept footballing performances that Liverpool have turned in from the very onset of this season were sooner or later bound to catch up with them. At the time we had surged to the top, many conveniently chose to view such early success along the old football adage lines of 'if we can grind out the results when we're not playing well then we can look forward to an even richer haul when we begin to click into gear'. The reality was that once the goal well of Michael Owen and Danny Murphy began to dry up or stalwarts like Sami, Stephane and Jerzy faltered or were injured we found ourselves struggling.
Our current footballing philosophy is not to control games and - more often than not - force a victory in the manner of the Liverpool teams of Shankly, Paisley, Fagan and Dalglish. Rather it is to sit back and pounce in the manner of Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest. Let the opposition do all the running and then pick them off and grab the points. Now there is nothing wrong with such tactics in the right environment. The great Liverpool teams would sometimes - especially away from home in Europe - deploy themselves to such effect. The difference was that such a philosophy was not the sole weapon in their armoury. They also knew even more instinctively how to control a game and - for the greater part of the time - did exactly that.
By far the biggest problem with the current Liverpool philosophy comes when the opposition susses them out. If the opposition aren't prepared to play ball and come pouring out at the current Liverpool or, worse still, snatches the lead, then we invariably find it infuriatingly difficult to play the possession-based game that is required to retrieve the situation. How many times do you see us resorting to the sterile long ball game or the killer pass game via Steven Gerrard? We all know the answer to that. Far too often. Certainly enough for us to warrant the unwelcome tag of predictable with which we have increasingly become saddled.
Nor are such tactics helped by the inability of virtually any of our defenders to join in our attacking play as was, arguably, THE distinctive feature of the great Liverpool sides - Chris Lawler, Tommy Smith, Emlyn Hughes, Phil Neal, Mark Lawrenson, Alan Hansen. Need I go on? What it meant is that the old sides would be attacking many times throughout a game with a full complement of outfield players. Midfielders and defenders - often five or six strong - would go surging beyond the front attacking pair or trio. In the current set up, we are fortunate, indeed, if a solitary midfielder gets even level with the attacking pair. Is it any wonder we often appear so sterile in our play or that Gerard Houllier is so often accused of being so inhibited and cautious in his approach to the game?
But enough. That, I think, is sufficient condemnation for one piece no matter how justified it might be, in the circumstances, for a fan to voice it.
What now of the positive side of things? For, rest assured, there are many.
The fact is that employing not too dissimilar tactics not two years ago Gerard Houllier landed us with a magnificent treble and appeared to have catapulted us within reach of the very pinnacle of European football. Last year we achieved a marvellous runners-up spot in The League, once again employing much the same philosophy and tactics. The deal was that in the space of three years Gerard Houllier had created a bridgehead from whence we would polish the gems he had unearthed for us and go on to re-affirm our former eminence. He had swept out the cobwebs from the darkest corners of Anfield and had set about creating a fresh bastion of power flushed with new and exciting faces. A whole new aura - and era - was upon us.
So has the latest lapse changed all that?
It is, of course, a rhetorical question. Manifestly, in the ultimate analysis, nothing has changed. Whilst the latest run may well be the worst we have witnessed since Elisha Scott used to wear knee pads to polish the floor of the Kop goalmouth, in the overall scheme of Gerard Houllier's achievements it ranks as little more than a blip. Sure mistakes have been made. Sure wrong players have left and wrong players have come. After all, we all have our heroes [my two, incidentally, were Titi and Davy Thompson] Sure Marcus Babbel has been badly missed and should surely have had his role replicated to maintain a right wing attacking balance. Sure Gerard Houllier's once successful tactics together with some glaring and sometimes persistent tactical/positional blunders have now come to plague us. Sure some of the football has been pure ****e. Sure the manager's post match waffling has had even the most pro-Houllier afficianados squirming.
Naturally, there are those - myself clearly included - who amidst such a crisis as this are seeking to point out as many as we can of these mistakes that have occurred. Nor is there anything unusual or - indeed - wrong in that. It is a perfectly understandable human reaction to such a situation. It is seen by some as a fundamental part of any solution. And let's face it, whenever things go awry in any facet of life, we all seek a solution. We would scarcely rank as human if we never. Indeed, those who seek to turn a blind eye or cannot be arsed to work them out, are merely fooling themselves not to mention the perpetrators of such mistakes.
Of course, highlighting errors and imploring them to be corrected is one thing. Baying for the immediate sacrifice of the person in charge of affairs is quite another. Indeed, it could well be regarded by sane minds as being, perhaps, just a teeny weeny weeny bit too hasty having due regard to the complete set of circumstances. Whilst retribution has often been wielded as an historical panacea, in truth, it often ends in tears. Or worse. In days of old 'heads you lose' meant just that. John The Baptist, Charles the First, Marie Antoinette. You name them. In fact, anybody with a decent head of hair used to suffice. Thankfully, despite his French roots Gerard Houllier no longer possesses a full head of hair [in fact, it's difficult to imagine him with Ginola-like locks he is once reputed to have sported]. Otherwise, Lord knows what some of these glory hunting callers to Talk Sport and 606 would have planned for the poor man.
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STAND BY YOUR MAN
There is, of course, no magic wand here. This is neither Camelot nor Middle Earth.
Sadly, we are not about to witness Merlin transform our team overnight into some passable reincarnation of late fifties/early sixties Real Madrid. There will be no magical triumvirate of Francisco Gento, Ferenc Puskas and Alfredo Di Stefano to suddenly launch a calvacade of sublimity down our left flank, tear any opposition to shreds and whisk us back up that league table faster than Clive Tyldesley can lick the entire circumference of Alex Ferguson's arse. Nor shall we see that wizard of the moment, Gandalf, miraculously appearing from beyond some far eastern sky shrouded in gold to convince Igor Biscan that all along he really was Zizi Zidane but with some chronic case of stiff limb syndrome and an even worse haircut.
And all those evil Blue and Manc bastards currently besieging our fortress like a legion of heinous orgs from the very bowels of the earth? Well, even more regrettably neither is Hollywood about to loan us a film set load of elves and indestructible super heroes to wipe them all out at a single merciful stroke.
No. 'Fraid not.
The truth is that what has been happening to our club through this increasingly bleak midwinter is our reality. We're stuck with it. Fact is we're in a crisis. And it's not nice. Not nice at all.
So let us reflect for a moment on the bare sombre facts. As I write on the eve of our visit to Maine Road, it is ten league games without a solitary victory - six defeats and four draws. Elimination from the money-laden Champions League. On the face of it disastrous. Unacceptable, some are saying. Well let's be frank, shall we? In football, such things, I'm afraid, can happen. This is not Championship Manager. Even the very best can fall prey to downward spirals, losing belief and confidence as defeat follows defeat and lady luck - and even lord luck for that matter - seems to have all but deserted you.
Mind you, for all that such a sequence is undoubtedly bad and unpalatable, it is not, significantly, the nub of our current problem and demise. Ours is, rather, one of footballing philosophy. Our current playing style sucks. What's more it has led to an unpredictability of fortune against even the weakest opposition that simply beggars belief.
Fact is, the current Liverpool team is actually playing no better nor worse now than it was when we 'appeared' to be 'comfortably' top of the league in October. Games we won back then, we could quite easily have lost. Just as - and Phil Thompson quite rightly pointed this out a week or so ago - games we have recently lost we could quite easily have won. On balance we are actually getting no more or no less than we deserve. Our points tally is about right. It fairly reflects our performances. Indeed, if anything, it is arguably higher than we actually merit based on, say, boxing's points scoring criteria. Fact is, this season, mediocrity has been our watchword.
It just so happens that this mediocrity has arrived in a rather weird fashion. A spate of wins and draws followed by a spate of defeats and draws. If you reflect fairly upon our performances since the start of the season then the biggest surprise is that anybody is really surprised at all at how things have begun to pan out. In the final analysis you get out of football what you put into it. Some of the inept footballing performances that Liverpool have turned in from the very onset of this season were sooner or later bound to catch up with them. At the time we had surged to the top, many conveniently chose to view such early success along the old football adage lines of 'if we can grind out the results when we're not playing well then we can look forward to an even richer haul when we begin to click into gear'. The reality was that once the goal well of Michael Owen and Danny Murphy began to dry up or stalwarts like Sami, Stephane and Jerzy faltered or were injured we found ourselves struggling.
Our current footballing philosophy is not to control games and - more often than not - force a victory in the manner of the Liverpool teams of Shankly, Paisley, Fagan and Dalglish. Rather it is to sit back and pounce in the manner of Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest. Let the opposition do all the running and then pick them off and grab the points. Now there is nothing wrong with such tactics in the right environment. The great Liverpool teams would sometimes - especially away from home in Europe - deploy themselves to such effect. The difference was that such a philosophy was not the sole weapon in their armoury. They also knew even more instinctively how to control a game and - for the greater part of the time - did exactly that.
By far the biggest problem with the current Liverpool philosophy comes when the opposition susses them out. If the opposition aren't prepared to play ball and come pouring out at the current Liverpool or, worse still, snatches the lead, then we invariably find it infuriatingly difficult to play the possession-based game that is required to retrieve the situation. How many times do you see us resorting to the sterile long ball game or the killer pass game via Steven Gerrard? We all know the answer to that. Far too often. Certainly enough for us to warrant the unwelcome tag of predictable with which we have increasingly become saddled.
Nor are such tactics helped by the inability of virtually any of our defenders to join in our attacking play as was, arguably, THE distinctive feature of the great Liverpool sides - Chris Lawler, Tommy Smith, Emlyn Hughes, Phil Neal, Mark Lawrenson, Alan Hansen. Need I go on? What it meant is that the old sides would be attacking many times throughout a game with a full complement of outfield players. Midfielders and defenders - often five or six strong - would go surging beyond the front attacking pair or trio. In the current set up, we are fortunate, indeed, if a solitary midfielder gets even level with the attacking pair. Is it any wonder we often appear so sterile in our play or that Gerard Houllier is so often accused of being so inhibited and cautious in his approach to the game?
But enough. That, I think, is sufficient condemnation for one piece no matter how justified it might be, in the circumstances, for a fan to voice it.
What now of the positive side of things? For, rest assured, there are many.
The fact is that employing not too dissimilar tactics not two years ago Gerard Houllier landed us with a magnificent treble and appeared to have catapulted us within reach of the very pinnacle of European football. Last year we achieved a marvellous runners-up spot in The League, once again employing much the same philosophy and tactics. The deal was that in the space of three years Gerard Houllier had created a bridgehead from whence we would polish the gems he had unearthed for us and go on to re-affirm our former eminence. He had swept out the cobwebs from the darkest corners of Anfield and had set about creating a fresh bastion of power flushed with new and exciting faces. A whole new aura - and era - was upon us.
So has the latest lapse changed all that?
It is, of course, a rhetorical question. Manifestly, in the ultimate analysis, nothing has changed. Whilst the latest run may well be the worst we have witnessed since Elisha Scott used to wear knee pads to polish the floor of the Kop goalmouth, in the overall scheme of Gerard Houllier's achievements it ranks as little more than a blip. Sure mistakes have been made. Sure wrong players have left and wrong players have come. After all, we all have our heroes [my two, incidentally, were Titi and Davy Thompson] Sure Marcus Babbel has been badly missed and should surely have had his role replicated to maintain a right wing attacking balance. Sure Gerard Houllier's once successful tactics together with some glaring and sometimes persistent tactical/positional blunders have now come to plague us. Sure some of the football has been pure ****e. Sure the manager's post match waffling has had even the most pro-Houllier afficianados squirming.
Naturally, there are those - myself clearly included - who amidst such a crisis as this are seeking to point out as many as we can of these mistakes that have occurred. Nor is there anything unusual or - indeed - wrong in that. It is a perfectly understandable human reaction to such a situation. It is seen by some as a fundamental part of any solution. And let's face it, whenever things go awry in any facet of life, we all seek a solution. We would scarcely rank as human if we never. Indeed, those who seek to turn a blind eye or cannot be arsed to work them out, are merely fooling themselves not to mention the perpetrators of such mistakes.
Of course, highlighting errors and imploring them to be corrected is one thing. Baying for the immediate sacrifice of the person in charge of affairs is quite another. Indeed, it could well be regarded by sane minds as being, perhaps, just a teeny weeny weeny bit too hasty having due regard to the complete set of circumstances. Whilst retribution has often been wielded as an historical panacea, in truth, it often ends in tears. Or worse. In days of old 'heads you lose' meant just that. John The Baptist, Charles the First, Marie Antoinette. You name them. In fact, anybody with a decent head of hair used to suffice. Thankfully, despite his French roots Gerard Houllier no longer possesses a full head of hair [in fact, it's difficult to imagine him with Ginola-like locks he is once reputed to have sported]. Otherwise, Lord knows what some of these glory hunting callers to Talk Sport and 606 would have planned for the poor man.