Blah blah blah Gerrard is he any good anymore blah blah Russian artificial grass has knackered our capt blah blah blah rotation is rubbish says Tommy Smith blah blah

Wait.

we’re playing Everhopefulofa4thplace on Saturday. So with due respect to Mr J. Betjamin:

Stop all the crap

the talking and that

stop the sniping of the old

the press so bold

Stop the bickering, picking and

snickering

Let the players play.

It’s Everton here, not some other team. The 2nd biggest game of the league season. (Them at ours being the first) and their cup final. Bragging rights v blueshite. Workmates gloating or us showboating. The result doesn’t matter on Saturday afternoon. It lasts a lot longer than that. It lasts all the next week. And the week after that. Until the next derby match.

We lost the last one 3-0. But we also won the last derby match 6-0. I know which result I prefer. It’s not just another 3 points though. It’s Everton.

So pack in the pettiness and get your throat sweets out. Gonna be a hoarse day.

COME ON!!!!

A strange week all in with the two performances against Pompey and Porto leaving questions galore down Anfield way:

Pompey was poor. It’s always a difficult place to visit and with it being a Saturday 12:45pm kick off following the internationals, and with Carragher, Gerrard and Finnan all struggling to make the matchday squad and Riise missing out, a point wasn’t a bad result. The press and media went to town on rotation again, ignoring the fact that Rafa rotates as much as both Ferguson and the now dearly departed Mourinho. 118 changes in 38 games in 06/07 for Rafa; 118 changes in 38 games in Ferguson winning the title in 06/07; 118 changes in 38 games in Mourinho winning the title in 05/06. Both Alonso and Sissoko has been in excellent form this season so Gerrard was no great miss, especially if you had watched his efforts v Russia for England and subsequently away to Porto. He simply doesn’t look fit after his toe injury. The only contentious choice was leaving Torres on the bench after his trip to Iceland. Probably caught a cold.

Porto was poorer. The “big guns” were back in the team. Unfortunately the kitman forgot to pack the bullets. The back four looked nervy, the midfield as if they’d never played together and the front two adrift. With the honourable exception of Kuyt the rest looked like they’d been on a week long magical mystery tour via Amsterdam, Hamburg and the side streets of Las Ramblas. It was only after Pennant’s idiotic sending off that a collective alarm call rang and the lads got down to the nitty gritty of securing a valuable point in what should be our most difficult away game.

The metatarsal injuries to Alonso and Agger prior to the game will mean they’ll both be out for 5-6 weeks. There’s plenty of cover for Alonso with Gerrard, Sissoko and Mascerano in the squad along with the young U20 Brazilian captain Lucas Leiva who may now get his chance to play a few games. Agger’s cover is a different matter - it was no secret that Rafa was desperately trying to secure another central defender this summer and the failure of Henize to secure his release to us leaves the squad threadbare at the back. Sami Hyypia will deputise admirably but there’ll be concerns over whether he can cope with two games a week at his age. Arbeloa has played at centreback for Deportivo so could theoretically step in, but after that it’s down to the youth players such as Jack Hobbs and Mikel San Jose.

Elsewhere we’ve had Big Fat Sam opening his Big Fat Mouth to spout some Big Fat Nonsense. Perhaps he’s still a little sore that he received short shrift from the Liverpool board when he made his interest in the manager’s job known on Gerrard Houllier’s departure? Or he could merely be playing the media game in an attempt to stall for time as he wonders how he can fit Michael Owen into his peculiar brand of long-ball, long-throw in football? Here’s a dreadful finish for you Mr Allardyce: 9th. Liverpool haven’t finished that low in the 45 seasons since Shankly won promotion in 1961-62. That’s the minimum target I’m setting you at the big club you’ve always yearned to manage.

I’ll be sad to see Jose Mourinho leave Chelsea. It’ll make those semi-finals so much harder for us. It wasn’t sexy football that Roman wanted, just a crowd that turned up and a tactic other than throw the big centre half up front when in need of a goal. In the end Rafa was the rock on which Jose founded.

And finally I was filled with horror when I heard that ITV had axed the British Comedy Awards today, I was looking forward to Everton sweeping the board. From the ticket fiasco prior to last night’s delayed game, through the two missed penalties one of which is just about to land in Kharkiv, having to hire in Johnny Vegas and Claire Sweeney to add some glamour, Keith Wyness asleep in the director’s box, being outplayed by nine men and Kevin Ratcliffe calling the opposition Metatarsal, I’ve not laughed as hard in years.

Who said they don’t write comedies like they used to?

Over the past few seasons I’ve always felt Liverpool’s squad was strong, and that maybe all we needed was a player or two with an extra touch of class to drive us forward.
However, looking at our teams for the opening two games one of the most noticeable things has been the strength of the players left out of the starting eleven. For our game against Toulouse, our bench read: Itandje, Agger, Riise, Torres, Alonso, Kuyt, Sissoko. Jermaine Pennant had been left back home. On Saturday against Aston Villa, three of yesterday’s starters (Mascherano, Crouch and Benayoun) were left at home as we went chasing our first league win of the season.

Manchester United benefitted last season from a great injury free run for most of the season. Whether or not we now have those players with the extra bit of quality to win us the title, we look stronger than ever in terms of the ability to cope with any injury crisis that should hit, which can only be good news for the upcoming season.

Regardless of one’s love or hatred for all things Murdoch, how refreshing and lovely it was to NOT hear Andy Gray’s moaningdulcet tones on our match yesterday. Nothing to do with the choice of broadcaster but rather the man in charge of the 2nd lip mic.

Now I dislike 5:15 games. Marginally less than the 12:45 ones, but still its just not right. However he who pays the referee calls the kick off time, and so 5:15 it must be.

But thankfully now, due to competition within the broadcasters that float in space, we have other commentators and smooth Des and most importantly, not Andy Gray and his trying-to-sound-impressive-with-a-baritone-voice that isn’t. Even ALed Jones can make a game sound more interesting than him. I mean how many bloody times does Gray intone the word “FANTASTICCCCCC….” only for it not to be. Watch Des on Countdown repeats and get a new word Andy.

The SKY maybe still Gray, but there’s blue yonder from the Green Isle. Happy Days.

PS why does our away kit shorts look like we’ve ripped the arse out of them, baring red undies to one and all ?

nb this isn’t by me, rather a writer on RAWK but I feel deserves a wider audience…

“No, this letter isn’t  a critique of some clueless twerp in the Anfield Road End called Rupert, with his Soccer a.m. ‘Who are Ya ?’ mentality – painful though his presence at the match is – that would be too ironic coming from a supporter with a name like mine !

No, this little rant’s for you Mr. Murdoch.  I doubt you’ll be losing much sleep over it, but it makes me feel great to write this, so here goes.

Well, Mr. Murdoch I did it. I’ve opened a beer, the rest of the crate is in the fridge and I’m all set for a start-of-season barbecue with my mates. There’ve been many such parties since I moved in here exactly 10 years ago, but this one’s not to celebrate that anniversary, nor even to celebrate the fact that 20 years ago this week me and one of those same mates were at Highbury to see the debut of Barnes, Beardsley and Aldridge… No, it’s not even to celebrate the fact that 30 years ago yesterday King Kenny signed for Liverpool …

No, it’s a FIFTEEN year thing, this little personal celebration of mine today. For the first time in 15 years I can watch league footy at home. I’ll be watching a channel called Setanta and celebrating the fact that I got through 15 years of your monopoly on live league football without  ever getting your channels, without ever paying you a penny. I’ve just raised my first glass of fine cold beer to that - and it’s not the piss that gets advertised on your channel either !

I suppose someone was always to steal our game in the nineties and gentrify and  americanise it - it was always going to happen as Britain got richer, and everything that moved was made into a privatised and commercialised commodity; football’s obvious  problems were there to be exploited by the likes of you in oh-so-many ways. Yes, someone had to do it - I was just sick that it had to be you, Rupert. You and your dynasty may be despicable, but I have to admire your nose for an opportunity. To quote this month’s When Saturday Comes magazine:

“Football is a game played by 22 men- and then Germany win. Substitute Sky in for Germany and you have a reasonable summary of televised football – until now.”

It was always scandalous that you won the monopoly so easily and so cheaply from your friends in the establishment and that it carried on so long, especially after the government got involved and at first promised to change things in 2003 – but then changed their minds - I wonder what promises you had to give Mr. Blair to survive that one, Rupert ?  You’ve had governments in your pocket (and return been in theirs) for a quarter of a century, so you thought nobody could do anything about it. Then along comes the European Commission (I’m drinking a toast to them too - oh how you must hate their inconvenient penchant for fairness and transparency eh Rup ?), and in the name of good old competition. That’s com-pet-it-ion, Rupert – surely you recognise the concept, you being the arch Thatcherite and all ? 

So suddenly you have  a rival, a company named Setanta.  Named after the boyhood title of that great hero of Irish mythology, Cúchulainn, who acquired his later name from the evil hound he slew with a hurling ball rammed down its throat – a David  and Goliath story, if you like. Well here’s one in the eye for you, Rupert, from a company that started as an upstart, showing the upstart Irish team at the 1990 Mondiali to the upstart Irish community in London. Cuchulainn’s original name was Setanta “the little one”.

“When we went international, we thought at first that we should change the name,” their joint founder Michael O’Rourke said, in an interview earlier this yaer. “But it’s part of where we came from, and we’re quite fond of it now.”

To use some appropriate broadcasting clichés they have become the dark horse of broadcasting, the minow that is now a shark, the outsider that has come from nowhere to secure some of the UK’s most coveted premium sports rights: the US PGA Tour golf, the Scottish Premier League and 46 live FA Premier League games per season, effective from today : Aston Villa v. the Mighty Reds

A toast to Setanta for having the balls ! I think I’d better crack open another bottle already …

Now I’m sure Setanta aren’t perfect - in fact some of their new employees inevitably used to work for you - and I doubt that all of the half a billion quid they’ve had to raise for their league, FA Cup and international bids has come from purer-than-pure sources, but at least they aren’t you, Mr. Murdoch !  In this case, for now at least, my enemy’s enemy is my friend. At least they haven’t built and empire based on a business plan of telling lies – constant, endless lies, to support the establishment, to play on prejudice, and to fight any restraint of the excesses of men like you.

Yes, you’ve peddled lies to support the establishment of the UK and latterly various other countries and make yourself indispensable, stories like the Hillsborough  ‘Truth’  lies, on a daily basis, for 30 years now, hiring yes-man editors like Mackezie, the arch-vermin, to do it for you. I accept that it would never have worked for the Hillsborough groups and  Liverpudlians to extend their ‘official’ boycott of the Sun to all Murdoch products, because that way the boycott would have been considerably diluted and have had far less chance of holding, but nevertheless I have long been surprised that more individual  Liverpudlians do not personally shun all things Murdoch, namely: the Times, NoTW, News International, Sky, Fox TV productions, My Space - the lot.  It seems odd, for example, that people not giving Murdoch his 40p a day for one lot of lies would subscribe to another lot for £1 a day … but there you go, people are inconsistent.

Anyway, at least some of them can fight you now by giving money to your rivals every month, and hopefully many will be cancelling their direct debit to you. Like I say, I doubt you’ll be losing any sleep. But it certainly makes me feel better and I’ll drink to that.

Of course it’s just a coincidence that the era of your monopoly of the televised game coincided with that of the Manchester United PLC on the pitch, but it made such symbolic sense when you tried to buy them a few years back and link your two evil empires together into one great malignant entity … so I just can’t help associating you together. Sky loves Man U … because real football, of course, began in 1992 …and I hate you both.  Now that your monopoly has ended I just feel …well I’ve made it clear what I feel - this could the beginning of a whole new era on and off the pitch! There’s even a new LFC TV channel to help Setanta in its rivalry with Sky, and it seems like one more step in us catching back up with the Mancs…

So Setanta has finally motivated me to get cable (I live in an area with no digital coverage) so it’s brought with it all the freeview  TV channels & digital radio reception,  and I’m in love with it all right away ! Can’t wait for the LFC TV channel to start, and to be able to watch and analyse all the Reds’ games the day after… with Serie A thrown in too …and all of that for £8 a month if you’re already a Virgin customer (yes Mr. Murdoch, I hate you that much you’ve turned me into a salesman for your rivals).

Could this be a new dawn, along with the new dawns of hope offered by the new signings, the new youth policy, the new ground  and  the new efforts to improve atmosphere on the Kop ? I certainly hope so ! I’ve not been so excited about a new season since I was a kid. Now I’ve just got to try not to drink all the beer before my mates get here …”

Nige

Well here we are in July and Liverpool lost 4-2 on pens to Portsmouth in er Hong Kong actually. Wonder if they got that fuckin bell on board the aircraft.

Anyway 27/7/07 will be the date that everyone remembers as groundhog day. Having spent a lot of dollars (and I mean a lot, what with the exchange rate right now, our esteemed new owners must crying into their weetabix) on striking talent, we managed not put away a goal in the ol’ onion bag (le sac d’ognion for those enjoying the Gallic theme) over 90mins, and then carried on failing in the penalties.

Mind you no-one expect Yossi Bear to score a penalty, after all he comes from West Ham (see FA CUP a while back).

AND on this day, the sale of tickets to members of the get-up-stupidly-early-logon-only-to-be-thrown-off-2mins-before-the-tickets-go-on-sale Priority Club went on sale for Chelsea. Jeez, have we not just played them like last night or something ? Anyway the members paid £55 for the single privlige of wasting 2 hours of their time (one before the tickets went on sale, one during) not buying their tickets online. Or on the phone. Which now invites you to type in your fancard number cruelly raising hopes before throwing you off the phone.

Ah it’s good to be back.

Hi Rick,

Firstly can we apologise for waking you. Thought it best to let you know that since the final in Athens the press has been slinging mud in the direction of fans, ably abetted by UEFA’s Official Gobshite William Gaillard.

Now no doubt you may think it’s enough to tell the Liverpool Echo that the club will “defend ourselves fiercely” in a comment a few days back, but even though Liverpool Football Club may still be run like a cottage shop, the world outside has changed.

We now live in a media-driven world of on-demand sports and news coverage; instant reporting and comment bounces it’s way five times around the world before Ian Cotton has changed the ribbon on his typewriter. Satellite broadcasting and the internet allows trenchant opinions to be instantly formed based on evasions, cover-ups and lies. It’s a painful lesson we learnt all too well following Hillsborough - and since those dark days the process has been sped up exponentially.

Lies don’t take holidays or weekends off, pop off home to see the missus or retire for some beauty sleep. They fester 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. And currently UEFA is being given a free reign to say what they want, when they want.

William Gaillard is a bullshitter of epic proportions - before the final he was praising Liverpool fans when questioned over the Athens security arrangements, stating there had been no specific problems in Istanbul. He even went on to say “The two groups of supporters have a tradition of good behaviour”. Weasel words from William, yet again. Post-final and we’re apparently the biggest rabble since Genghis Khan and his hoards invaded Europe for the medieval predecessor of the European Cup, and according to Gaillard the problems in Athens mirrored Istanbul.

Isn’t it time that Liverpool Football Club came out and defended the fans? They could start by pro-actively collating accounts of what went on from the fans as Manchester United did post-Lille and Roma. As it is the vacuum left by the club has had to be filled by the Football Supporters Federation:

http://www.fsf.org.uk/news/news0040-eventsinathens.html

We don’t want another measly statement to the local press, or a cosy chat with your favourite interviewer Garry Richardson on Five Live. We want you to take head on Platini’s corrupt organisation and counter everything they say, when they say it, where they say it. Point out the absolute shambles that most of the organisation of European away games and Finals stlll is: the crumbling stadiums where the steps are falling away from the ground underneath; the lack of basic toilet facilities; the lack of ticket checks; the bloody airports and their refugee camps;the overly aggressive stewarding and policing; the complete disregard for UEFA’s own stadium and safety regulations.

Then there’s the officially sanctioned black market that sees so many of the tickets awarded to UEFA’s “football family” and sponsors sold far above face value. And the UEFA employees themselves, who were dumping spare tickets in Athens into the hands of cocktail waitresses and hotel porters who performed above and beyond the call of duty.

It’s not your reputation being ruined Rick, it’s ours. And the UEFA shysters are being given a free reign at present.

Have you ever entered an empty stadium? Try it. Stand in the middle of the field and listen. There is nothing less empty than an empty stadium. There is nothing less mute than stands bereft of people.

At Wembley, shouts from the ‘66 World Cup which England won still resound, and if you listen very closely you can hear groans from 1953 when England fell to the Hungarians. Montevideo’s Centenario Stadium sighs with nostalgia for the glory days of Uruguayan football. Maracana is still crying over Brazil’s 1950 World Cup defeat.

At Bombonera in Buenos Aires, drums boom from half a century ago. From the depths of Azteca Stadium, you can hear the ceremonial chants of the ancient Mexican ball game. The concrete terraces of the Nou Camp in Barcelona speak Catalan, and the stands of San Mames in Bilbao talk in Euskera.

In Milan, the ghost of Giuseppe Meazza scores goals that shake the stadium bearing his name. The final of the ‘74 World Cup, won by Germany, is played day after day and night after night at Munich’s Olympic Stadium.

The stadium of King Fahd in Saudi Arabia has marble and gold boxes and carpeted stands, but it has no memory or much of anything to say.

Eduardo Galeano, Football in Sun and Shadow, 1995

On Monday evening Chelsea will train in an empty stadium. The loudest empty stadium in the world. It’ll whisper to them of Liverpool’s five glorious European Cup victories. Kopites now long departed will take up their specs again and invoke visions in the Chelsea minds of St. Etienne, Inter Milan, Auxerre, Roma, Barcelona, Olympiakos and Juventus.

The stands will echo to songs of triumph and glory, of the dignity of Elisha Scott and Billy Liddell, the heart of Ian St John and Emlyn Hughes, the strength of Tommy Smith and Graeme Souness, and the brilliance of John Barnes and Kenny Dalglish.

And when the Chelsea players look around, nervously, to see where these evocations are coming from they’ll see no one there. They’ll return to their hotel and struggle to sleep as their minds are filled with thoughts of Reds coming up that hill once more, victorious and glorious. They’ll toss and turn to painful memories from two years ago.

And on Tuesday evening it is up to us, today’s fans, to do our footballing ancestors proud at Anfield once again. Tuesday night is a chance for Glory, both on and off the pitch.

Do your best Reds, for there’s nothing more you can do, and Rafa’s team will have the chance to emulate the great teams of yore in Athens.

This can and will be OUR year.

How the mighty wheel turns, not a month away from the Man Utd game and all the barrage of yankee doodle dandy insults we fired at the Double Glaziers, will come back, no doubt, less wittily, at us on March 3rd.

Some small town Hick, and the close shave man himself, Mr Gillette have so far said all the right things; used the word ‘football’; joked about Carra’s accent and talked of winning. And we the fans swing from “I hope we get relegated” to “Happy Days are here again”.

I want to wait for a little of the prairie dust to settle and some tumbleweed to blow through before my feelings settle. Right now I’m cautious but optimistic. I like Moores and he’s done ok so far by me, so he has my trust in this issue for now. But also I’m aware that we’re now owned by Americans. A pal of George Bush no less. Makes me feel that today my club has got a little smaller, not a little bigger….

News is breaking in the States that George Gillett Jnr may be buying into Liverpool jointly with another major sports owner Tom Hicks, who has the Texas Rangers baseball team and
Dallas Stars ice hockey team as part of his portfolio.

The Dallas Morning News reports that Hicks flew into the UK earlier this week and was expected back in the USA today. The partnership idea was hatched last week when the two men met at the NHL All-Star Game.

Gillett is believed to be at the club today after his private plane landed at Liverpool John Lennon Airport this lunchtime.