Anthony McIntyre sees little improvement in Liverpool's defensive capabilities under Jurgen Klopp.

It was like Istanbul 2005 in reverse. Perhaps big Mamadou Sakho decided to put some of his own brand in the half time cuppa to celebrate his exclusion from such an inferior side. Being a banned substance in that sense isn’t always a bad thing. Might even make Sakho feel he is a banned player of substance.

Whatever happened, the Liverpool team that played the first half in last night’s Europa League final against Sevilla, went MIA and did not turn up for the second. What then took the field was a doddery eleven, more like the remnants from the 1977 European Cup victory over Borussia Monchengladbach, playing in an over 60s charity exhibition match. Sluggish, disorganised, leaderless, pointless really. 

Barely eighteen seconds into the half and the precious lead Liverpool had gained was squandered in a moment of defensiveness drunkenness. Perhaps, on the strength of the first 45, they presumed victory and drank the bubbly too early. Klopp might consider breathalysing his players in future. As always, defensive frailty was at the core of the rot, prompting erstwhile club stalwart Jamie Carragher to tweet, "Jurgen, transfer committee, anyone sign a f****** left back." 

While Moreno was clearly at fault a left back alone will not solve the deficiency. It is a team integration problem. Defensive strategy is awry and that is a managerial responsibility which no one has shown the slightest inclination to take on. 

In this area Klopp as a replacement for Rodgers has been no improvement. His defensive inadequacies seem to have accompanied him from Dortmund, where his “final season in charge was characterised by shocking defending ...”

Klopp has brought a feel good factor to the club rather than a play good one. Personal charisma has become the methadone in lieu of team class. Eighth in the Premiership, no trophies, no European football on Merseyside next year. In spite of his many shortcomings the record of Brendan Rodgers was not really that poor. His lowest Premiership place was seventh. 

The evening had got off to a good start for the Scousers. After the first ten minutes the men in red settled down and went about their task briskly and efficiently and were one up at half time due to a brilliant strike from Sturridge. Denied two certain penalties, they were unfortunate not to go in at the break three up. An hour later when they left the pitch, they were lucky not to depart six down.

I watched the game more for the sake of sharing the experience with my son, rather than out of any passion for Liverpool FC. I switched a planned trip to Dublin from evening to morning so that he and I could, for the optics, don the Liverpool tops, making him feel guilty in the process due to his affinity with and affection for Manchester United. His plate of treats proved a sufficient recompense. The tightness of the shirt made me look much like the team in front of me, flabby. Others might think I had been eating the treats.



Having to do nothing other than merely sit at home sprawled on the settee in front of the television, the loss was little more than an irritant. I felt absolutely nothing for the players who left with their loser medals rather than the cup. They got no less than they deserved. I felt it for the fans who had made the journey only to be rewarded with a performance that underscores the contention that behind each millionaire lies financial fraud. 

Earlier this year I watched working class people from the city of Liverpool, their faces strained by years of battling class prejudice, institutional cover up and injustice. They were the families of the 96 men women and children unlawfully killed at Hillsborough stadium in 1989. They had just secured a crucial victory at the inquest into the deaths of their loved ones. Had they have fuelled their justice campaign with the commitment and determination of last night’s millionaire squad, their loved ones would still carry the official and ideological imprimatur of low life drunks who pissed in gardens and forced their way into the ground causing mayhem and loss of life on a huge scale. 

What happened to those Liverpool fans at the combined hands of the British police, officialdom and The Sun, affords the team’s supporters an elevated vault in the emotive hierarchy of the mind of those who were fans at the time of the mass unlawful killing. Yet it is not enough for other fans to hold them in particular esteem while the players behave as if they are just a guaranteed source of income. Those who benefit most from the deep trawl of the fans’ pockets are obligated to reciprocate. Liverpool fans are from a wider family whose siblings died in anticipation of performances so unlike that on offer in Basle. When those who step into the Liverpool shirt make little or no effort, it exudes the arrogance of entitlement. just rake in the money and give little or nothing back in return. 

All sides lose. That’s sport. Liverpool have lost before and will again. It is when a side plays so unconvincingly, when its desire to win is considerably less than that of the spectators, that there is an ersatz look and feel to it all. It assumes the appearance of non-alcoholic beer. Looks and tastes the same but there is something just not right about it. 

What Basel 2016 will be remembered for was a team so determined to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, it succeeded.

Liverfool FC

Anthony McIntyre sees little improvement in Liverpool's defensive capabilities under Jurgen Klopp.

It was like Istanbul 2005 in reverse. Perhaps big Mamadou Sakho decided to put some of his own brand in the half time cuppa to celebrate his exclusion from such an inferior side. Being a banned substance in that sense isn’t always a bad thing. Might even make Sakho feel he is a banned player of substance.

Whatever happened, the Liverpool team that played the first half in last night’s Europa League final against Sevilla, went MIA and did not turn up for the second. What then took the field was a doddery eleven, more like the remnants from the 1977 European Cup victory over Borussia Monchengladbach, playing in an over 60s charity exhibition match. Sluggish, disorganised, leaderless, pointless really. 

Barely eighteen seconds into the half and the precious lead Liverpool had gained was squandered in a moment of defensiveness drunkenness. Perhaps, on the strength of the first 45, they presumed victory and drank the bubbly too early. Klopp might consider breathalysing his players in future. As always, defensive frailty was at the core of the rot, prompting erstwhile club stalwart Jamie Carragher to tweet, "Jurgen, transfer committee, anyone sign a f****** left back." 

While Moreno was clearly at fault a left back alone will not solve the deficiency. It is a team integration problem. Defensive strategy is awry and that is a managerial responsibility which no one has shown the slightest inclination to take on. 

In this area Klopp as a replacement for Rodgers has been no improvement. His defensive inadequacies seem to have accompanied him from Dortmund, where his “final season in charge was characterised by shocking defending ...”

Klopp has brought a feel good factor to the club rather than a play good one. Personal charisma has become the methadone in lieu of team class. Eighth in the Premiership, no trophies, no European football on Merseyside next year. In spite of his many shortcomings the record of Brendan Rodgers was not really that poor. His lowest Premiership place was seventh. 

The evening had got off to a good start for the Scousers. After the first ten minutes the men in red settled down and went about their task briskly and efficiently and were one up at half time due to a brilliant strike from Sturridge. Denied two certain penalties, they were unfortunate not to go in at the break three up. An hour later when they left the pitch, they were lucky not to depart six down.

I watched the game more for the sake of sharing the experience with my son, rather than out of any passion for Liverpool FC. I switched a planned trip to Dublin from evening to morning so that he and I could, for the optics, don the Liverpool tops, making him feel guilty in the process due to his affinity with and affection for Manchester United. His plate of treats proved a sufficient recompense. The tightness of the shirt made me look much like the team in front of me, flabby. Others might think I had been eating the treats.



Having to do nothing other than merely sit at home sprawled on the settee in front of the television, the loss was little more than an irritant. I felt absolutely nothing for the players who left with their loser medals rather than the cup. They got no less than they deserved. I felt it for the fans who had made the journey only to be rewarded with a performance that underscores the contention that behind each millionaire lies financial fraud. 

Earlier this year I watched working class people from the city of Liverpool, their faces strained by years of battling class prejudice, institutional cover up and injustice. They were the families of the 96 men women and children unlawfully killed at Hillsborough stadium in 1989. They had just secured a crucial victory at the inquest into the deaths of their loved ones. Had they have fuelled their justice campaign with the commitment and determination of last night’s millionaire squad, their loved ones would still carry the official and ideological imprimatur of low life drunks who pissed in gardens and forced their way into the ground causing mayhem and loss of life on a huge scale. 

What happened to those Liverpool fans at the combined hands of the British police, officialdom and The Sun, affords the team’s supporters an elevated vault in the emotive hierarchy of the mind of those who were fans at the time of the mass unlawful killing. Yet it is not enough for other fans to hold them in particular esteem while the players behave as if they are just a guaranteed source of income. Those who benefit most from the deep trawl of the fans’ pockets are obligated to reciprocate. Liverpool fans are from a wider family whose siblings died in anticipation of performances so unlike that on offer in Basle. When those who step into the Liverpool shirt make little or no effort, it exudes the arrogance of entitlement. just rake in the money and give little or nothing back in return. 

All sides lose. That’s sport. Liverpool have lost before and will again. It is when a side plays so unconvincingly, when its desire to win is considerably less than that of the spectators, that there is an ersatz look and feel to it all. It assumes the appearance of non-alcoholic beer. Looks and tastes the same but there is something just not right about it. 

What Basel 2016 will be remembered for was a team so determined to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, it succeeded.

19 comments:

  1. I fully support Klopp please give him a lifelong contract it was great watching football at its best come on the Spains

    ReplyDelete
  2. Love the 'shirt made me look flabby' lmfao
    Mackers yer older than me ya fat delusional sketch! Deal with it...

    As for the match, game of two halves. Savilla were as dreadful first half as Liverpool were second. I couldn't believe how bad they were and thought at half-time Liverpool had been too assertive during the first 45 minutes to be peggaed back physically or psycologically was a non starter, the game was over effectively. So, hats off to Savilla. Rodgers could be at Celtic next season, so a trip to Glasga could always leave you counting your blessings next season, both in footballing and social terms.

    On the bright side, your son is a very handsom young lad. Looks like his mum, lucky boy!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. "Liverpool have lost before and will again."

    Prophetic in this field too AM!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Jesus, did you have to roll about the floor to get that on Anthony?

    Bit of warning next time, yeah?

    My eyes! My eyes!

    ReplyDelete
  5. English football has lost the ability to defend properly and without a solid base defeat is more probable.

    For the sake of your readers maybe you should have had the blanket round ye and pulled up to yer neck!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Left back is always a hard position to get someone decent for. If they are any good with their left peg they are usually shoved up the wing to be forward from a young age. Even the immense Ajax youth set up is guilty of this (or at least they used to be).

    Countdown to the Poland game! Up da wee 6!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Thanks all for the comments.

    He is not like his ma at all Larry!!

    Peter, at least you didn't suggest the blanket be used to garrotte me. Progress!!

    Steve, it actually makes me look heavier than I am believe it or not. I have a great Glentoran shirt that a loyalist friend kindly procured for me and will wear it the next time I do a TV interview!!! I'll look lean and mean in it.



    ReplyDelete
  8. AM
    Garrotting? No! I can get my head around the fact that your an old provie, it's the Glenman bit I struggle with!
    In all seriousness I enjoy the footy posts. At least in that realm I know what I'm talking about!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Peter,

    I was a Glens supporter before any other team. It was the club I was taken to by my da when very young. I grew up going to their games at the Oval.

    ReplyDelete
  10. A dirty Glen man?

    And there was me beginning to like ye!

    No hope for ye! lol

    ReplyDelete
  11. Loved them when I was young and still have a look at their progress every now and then. Regularly we would walk the two mile over to the Oval for a game, weekend and midweek. Would go to Windsor as well for the derby game.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Used to go to Glenavon with my oul fella when I was a kid. Portadown the big local derby but the Glentoran games always had more agro. Full on fan fight one year, boxing day or New Year, fans in fist fights and on the pitch RUC chasing fans all over the gaff. It had been brewing a while, RUC on duty had been getting some hard wallops from phantom snowballers and laughed at by the crwd in the run up to the out break of fist fights. Everyone was ready for it. But we were all in the stand laughing like fuck. Never forget it, the crowd cheering it all on. RUC man grabbed one fella in the middle of the pitch after a chase who literally ran out of his coat to escape arrest to a huge laugh and cheer from the main stand. Serious good craic. Glenavon won the cup this year, beat Linfield !!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Larry,

    one of the Glenavon side was in charge of the sports in the Blocks. He would referee the games when we were on the big pitch and on occasion make up the numbers if we were short. He could play.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I know who you refer to. Can't quite remember his name but yeagh he was no dozer.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I remember him well but won't name him. No need to. He was a great player.

    ReplyDelete
  16. AM,

    How about making a regular piece on the upcoming euro's on TPQ? Good natured banter here, makes a change from the heavy stuff.

    Even just an small article on the Reps games and the wee 6, then we comment the banter below?

    ReplyDelete
  17. Good idea... be interesting to see how the wee 6 fare against World Chaps Germany
    Free State drew and beat them, imagine if Ingerlund had done that in a qualifiers. EARACHE

    ReplyDelete
  18. Larry,

    It will be a united Ireland wanting Engurlund bate!

    ReplyDelete