As she whispered gently in my ear upon what I was later to discover was our wedding night, ‘brace yourself, son…’
What a wonderful game. The tireless talking up of Liverpool Football Club based upon the square root of naff all in over a decade or more brought to book by a manager who has much more in his locker than a veneer of charm.
Hugo – mixed bag. Not a Louis Vuitton bag, more a Sainsbury’s bag for life.
Tripps – this is a player whose career was put on hold for a wind up toy and now we have him available for pretty much every game. Assist, you say?
Toby – christ only knows what it would cost to replace this simply extraordinary, businesslike talent.
Verts – this is second finest hour in the space of a week, boy is he good.
Sanchez – cheap at £40million. In the words of Nick Cave, ‘praise him, praise him until you’ve forgotten what you’re parading him for…’
Aurier – delivered the bosses’ plan, the goal was the only dink in both his and Jan’s otherwise robust performances.
Eriksen – bustled away and like Dele it was less about being a showstopper and more about playing for the greater good.
Dele – probably his best game in the shirt yet. Not because of the playground goal, but because he focused upon being useful. More please.
Son – all revved up and ready to rock.
Winks – growing with every game. You can feel it, the boy’s like a sponge absorbing every opportunity he’s exposed to.
Kane – a force of nature is what he is.
