CCFC 0 V 2 LIVERPOOL

This report might have been the first instalment of a season review / post mortem reflecting the hopelessness of our current plight. Well hold your horses you doom mongers, naysayers and worry warts. While you might discern an element of feeble-minded wishful thinking, I give you the case for the defence: 

BRIGHTON 0 v 2 CARDIFF. To quote the Guardian report ‘This was the kind of result to stoke Cardiff’s bid for survival with conviction rather than wildly optimistic hope. The gap to safety and Brighton has been whittled to two tantalising points. Given everything the Welsh club have endured this term, on and off the pitch, to be in such close contention with four games to play would already have seemed miraculous. Now, remarkably, the momentum may actually be with them.’ A Brighton fan responded by rating his team’s chances of escaping relegation as ‘thinner than a steam-rollered After Eight’. 

So against all expectations we approach this match in good heart. Back last summer when the fixtures came out I did a rough mental calculation that a realistic return for the season would be 28 points, and yet, here we are with 4 games remaining, the 30 point barrier broken and still battling away. We will of course get completely turned over by them there Scousers, but calm down, calm down soft lad we got two belters coming up against Fulham and Palace so nice one, well in. 

I wouldn’t normally resort to lazy cliches. I’ve been to Liverpool many times over the last 30 years. It’s a proud city with an industrial and cultural heritage similar to our own and its renaissance since the 1980’s has been remarkable. And yet. I’m not convinced Liverpudlians are much bothered about casting off stereotypes and trite perceptions. My research led me to the Liverpool Echo which on the day in question included the following headlines: 

‘Dogging at beauty spot is putting people off their fish and chips’

‘Dad knifed in testicles after confronting scallies outside his home’

‘Brawl at wedding sparks dramatic police response’ See video.

Today’s game is a bit of a sideshow. It’s fanciful to think that we might have a meaningful impact on the destiny of this year’s title. Liverpool may have shown signs during recent games that the battle with Man City for the 2019 Chuckle Brothers Premier League title - ‘To me, to you, to me, to you’ - is taxing them, but they’ve proved more than capable of to rising to the challenge and are currently in frightening form. We may escape a rout (officially 5 goals or more) or a drubbing (up to 5 goals) and I’ll settle for a dusting (2 goals or less). There’s surely no debate about who will take the honours. 

I’d like to see Liverpool win the title. How could any neutral live with Man City winning it again? We know that money buys success, and it would be hypocritical not to acknowledge that our relative ascendancy in recent times has been predicated on a massive ego-massaging punt by a foreign investor with no previous connections to the city, prepared to appropriate its history, culture and sense of itself to bolster his business empire and more importantly his self-esteem.

Money talks but ambiguity thrives on a wink, a nod and selective hearing. That Vincent Tan is deemed a ‘fit and proper person’ by the Premier League might raise a few eyebrows, but the threshold is so low that Lucifer himself would be given the nod if he could prove that his fall from grace was not the result of false accounting. Common decency, generally accepted morality and an acknowledgement of basic human rights are not under scrutiny and this lack of due diligence  is hugely to Man City’s advantage. The club is 86% owned by a United Arab Emirates private equity company owned by Sheik Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, deputy prime minister of the United Arab Emirates and half brother to the President.

Flogging and stoning are legal punishments in Sheik Mansour’s Emirates. Kidnappings, torture, forced disappearances, slave labour, denial of freedom of association, censorship all effectively condoned by the Premier League.

Scousers would be wise to steer clear of the UAE. I’m not sure if dogging is a thing in downtown Abu Dhabi, but putting others off their fish and chips is a capital offence. Fair do’s عادل بما يكفي

Man City will be rattled, suffering the Sheiks after their VAR capitulation to Tottenham in the Champions League quarters, an injury-time reversal that gave rise to howls of chirpy derision across the land, dreams of an intolerable quadruple gratifyingly dashed. Oh, كيف ضحكنا!! On balance, the momentum is now with The Reds after their imperious league form and impressive run to the Champions League semis where Barcelona await them. 

In the corresponding fixture five years ago we led twice before succumbing 3-6, Liverpool ultimately taking full advantage of Solskjaer’s naive adventurism in a crazy, hugely entertaining game. Warnock’s default tactic of containment will surely be tested today by an opposition overseen by a master tactician with the nous and the resources to adapt to any challenge. 

Brighton’s point at Wolves and our inferior goal difference means that we need to pick up a minimum of 4 points from our remaining fixtures. A point today, however unlikely, would be very welcome.

The CCS today was a cauldron, a pot boiling over with anticipation and anxiety on a steaming hot Easter Sunday afternoon. While those of us in the Ninian Stand were sweltering, the grandstand opposite was in shade but for the occasional blinding flash of Jurgen Klopp’s snap-on gnashers. 

His charges eased into a controlled, confident, if pedestrian start, showing none of the urgency and intent of the other Top 6 teams we’ve had the dubious pleasure of welcoming to our stadium, the authoritative van Dijk in particular strolling around like he owned the place.

When Liverpool did decide to up the pace, our back-peddling wing-backs contributed to an effective back six. But in addition to containing the opposition Warnock had clearly decided that full back Alexander-Arnold was susceptible to the pace and strength of Mendez-Laing who had swapped wings to take advantage. Unfortunately the weakness in the final third that has dogged us all season was apparent again today and when we did get round the back we were typically short of options in and around the box.

Liverpool carved out the best chance of the first half after a smart 1-2 between the generally underwhelming Salah and Mane, Firmino running from deep only to hook over from the penalty spot.

The contrast between the teams on the break was clear - when Liverpool broke out, they did so with pace and purpose, whereas we tended to move out with muddled ambition, handing back the initiative with misplaced passes and hopeful punts.

As we passed all our first half Top 6 capitulation landmarks - the fluky early goal, the suspect penalty decision, the time-added-on submission - confidence grew and when the half time whistle blew the team was cheered to the rafters and beyond for a job well (half) done.

Reality soon dawned in the second half as an optimistic ‘can we hang on?’ evolved into the limited  aspiration of embracing the inevitable defeat with our heads held high. Liverpool’s opener came from a well worked corner as decoys ran off to allow Wijnaldum space on the edge of the box to plant a thunderous half-volley past Etheridge.

There were pockets of disturbance around the ground as the occasional stealthy Soft Lad Scouser revealed themselves amongst the home fans with rash celebrations and had to be removed for their own protection. An incident near us revealed a hate-filled herd mentality as the local tribe turned on an away fan. I’m no anthropologist so l’ll leave it to others to explain why.

We continued to compete well and might have equalised, the opportunities to level scores inevitably coming from dead ball situations with Morrison again the main threat in the opposition box; how he missed when inexplicably mis-timing his header from one yard out only he will know. 

But it was our captain’s intervention in his own box that finally closed the game down in Liverpool’s favour when his challenge on Salah - recently named as one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people and an annoying little cheat to boot - allowed the Egyptian to hoodwink  the biddable Atkinson who feebly pointed to the spot. James Milner does not miss penalties. 

2-0 was a fair reflection of Liverpool’s clear but understated superiority. Their performance was solid, workmanlike and efficient without ever reaching the level of the masterclass provided by Man City. The much-anticipated defeat changes little for us but at least the performance holds out some hope that in our quest for survival we can fulfil our side of the bargain. We just need the free-falling Seagulls to keep to theirs.

‘Good things are associated with blue, like clear days, more than singing the blues. The word ‘blue’ is full of optimism’ - David Carson, Designer

CCFC 1 V 2 CHELSEA

Recently The Observer asked PL fans to assess the season to date and to look at the run-in, predicting the finish for their own teams as well as the final top 4 and the relegation spots. Our representative observed that the Bluebirds are the only team in the bottom three with a reasonable chance of avoiding the drop, we’re staying positive, the fans are behind the team, we’re hoping that results go our way and that we have to go for it. Well, yes, quite, and thanks for the insight cardiffcity-mad.co.uk 

After the West Ham win, drawing from the sporting lexicon of preserve-based analogies we’d progressed from being in a pickle to merely in a jam, albeit a quality pulp suffused with the finest hand-picked fruits in a light delicate jelly but with seal broken, the lid slightly askew. This is still at the higher end of pre-season expectations. Huddersfield had long since assumed the role of ‘no-hopers’ and relegation by the end of March is a sad end to their brief stay in the top flight. Fulham’s inexorable demise has been all the more painful for failing to carry the burden of expectation. It is encouraging to read that there’s no consensus amongst other fans that we’re doomed, and our relegation rivals are more than a little jittery, describing their teams’ form as ‘desperate’ ‘abysmal’ ‘inconsistent’ etc. 

But by far the most savage and witty assessment of their team comes from the Chelsea Supporters Group who characterise their season as one of ‘boring predictable dross’ with fans ‘wincing their way through 90 minutes then heading straight to the pub to make us forget’. They brutally characterise their manager Maurizio Sarri as ‘dressed like a car park attendant chewing on a cigarette butt’ before having a snipe at the club’s penchant for vegan pies: ‘It used to be that you bought a pie and knew it contained vague meat in a gloop. We knew where we were with that. Now it’s all butternut squash, tofu and spinach…’ All good fun but I detect a sense of entitlement amongst the drollery.

You won’t find many resentful Bluebirds taking a break from the boring predictable dross munching on their half-time Grazing Shed Super Tidy, Spicy Uncle Pedro or Vegan Wah Wah locally sourced sustainable eco-friendly artisanal burger washed down with a skinny frappuccino harking back all misty-eyed at the memory of a soggy half-time gristle ’n’ gravy Ninian Park  Clarksie and a thermonuclear Bovril still capable of cauterising the oesophagus 20 minutes into the second half. Nope, all’s just fine and dandy at the CCS, no complaints, we’d just like to keep this going for as long as possible please.

It’s no understatement to describe the Chelsea squad as an embarrassment of riches and it boggles the mind (and gladdens the heart, lifts the soul) that an experienced manager seems incapable of inspiring the likes of Hazard, Kante, Willian et al to challenge for a top trophy just two years after Antonio Conte was discarded for ‘underachieving’ in winning the Premier League with the second highest points tally in PL history. 

Backing up their stellar squad Chelsea have used their financial clout to eschew a youth development programme in favour of cynically buying up young talent and then farming them out to clubs mostly in lower leagues away the clutches of their rivals. They currently have 44 players out on loan. In any other area of business this practice would be regarded as anti-competitive and appropriate legislation would be introduced. But when did FIFA ever do ‘the right thing?’

It seems only reasonable to be resentful of Chelsea’s rise from near bankruptcy to the 7th most valuable football club in the world based on the laundering of its owner’s dubious acquisition of former Soviet state assets, but some of us were none too keen on them before Abramovich. An uneasy mix of self-regarding Kings Road Dandies (their ‘frilly nylon panties pulled right up tight’) and tooled-up skinheads, they were a stain on the game throughout the seventies and eighties when the local council declined chairman Ken Bates’ plan to erect electric fencing around the pitch to keep his fans in. The recent vile abuse directed at Raheem Sterling confirms that the club retains an odious hardcore of unreconstructed thugs.

It’s no surprise that in a recent fans’ poll ‘Chelsea’ was the top answer to the question ‘Which club do you dislike the most?’. So many reasons then for putting in a good performance today.

In the event the quality of the performance, although heartening and showing full commitment to the cause was frustrated by a display of calculated cack-handedness by referee Craig Pawson that is almost impossible to describe. Remember that name. You’re likely to hear it a lot over the coming years, context: ‘The ref had a ‘mare, a real Pawson’. How bad was he? To give you an idea of the scale of his incompetency, as a decision maker of historical ineptitude he’d have been advising Napoleon to invade Russia in winter, or driving the Archduke Franz Ferdinand through the backstreets of Sarajevo, navigating the Titanic’s path through the North Atlantic, barbering Chris Waddle’s 80’s mullet. 

It’s a common default position of the blinkered narrow-minded partial fan driven by irrationalities and psychological inadequacies to claim that sinister forces are at play after a disappointing defeat, but, but, and but again, I’ve never left a game so indignant. What appeared at the time to be mystifying decisions have now been clarified as nothing short of outrageous. 

I’m not a conspiracy theorist - that way madness lies - but it’s clear that certain officials are unable to detach themselves from being starry-eyed fans. The referee today betrayed a mindset that was fixed on giving the benefit of any possible doubt to the visiting luminaries, deferring to their celebrity status. The role of his assistants must also be questioned, in particular the linesman who refused to flag for the Chelsea equaliser claiming that his view was obscured ‘and anyway, Azpilicueta is in my fantasy football team’.

The result was all the more galling for our solid performance against a Chelsea team that was for much of the game lethargic, almost indifferent to the necessity to maintain a top four challenge. The bare facts might imply that they dominated the game, but their 75% possession was based primarily on lateral passing around the halfway line, their shots at goal mostly speculative or achieved out of desperation when the game seemed lost.

They came to life after the introduction of Hazard soon after City had taken the lead with a well worked Camarasa goal less than a minute into the second half which allowed us to seize the initiative, and which we looked more than capable of defending until the decisive non-intervention of officials. 

Hazard, inexplicably left on the bench along with Kante, Giroud, Loftus-Cheek and Smacked-Arse, sorry, Hudson-Odoi threatened to change the balance of the game but was effectively shackled by a tireless Peltier who stuck to him limpet-like. Shout-outs also to Gunnarsson, Arter and captain Morrison who controlled the back line and was a constant threat from set pieces in the opposition box, cheated out of two unequivocal penalty shouts.

I’ve really seen a more deflated player than Sean Morrison in his post-match MOTD interview. Looking understandably bewildered after the sequence of events that turned a magnificent  potentially season-defining victory into a defeat laden with dire implications for not only the season but the long term viability of the club, he was admirably restrained when describing being hauled down and having his shirt almost ripped from his chest in full view of the referee. 

We draw no comfort from the TV analysis that concluded our misfortune was a test case for the merits of VAR technology. These decisions - clear penalties, an offside goal and the yellow card for Rudiger’s hauling down of Zahore when bearing down on goal - were not borderline, requiring the appliance of science to determine what is imperceptible to the human eye; neither did they require, in the words of Basil Fawlty ‘a degree in the bleedin’ obvious’. All that was needed was for the man in charge to perform with a modicum of competency.

It would be a crass slur to claim that we were cheated out of victory today. So, frustrated, thwarted, baffled, swindled, double-crossed and defeated we must pick ourselves up ready to face the next challenge hoping for fair play and divine intervention against champions Man City. Let us pray…