It felt like an election campaign, everything was going reasonably smoothly, everyone was warming up to your approach, some punters were in a way preparing to wax lyrically on you, but then one moment of madness on election's day eve, one punch below the belt and it is all lost. Added to that you have to endure the opposition's goading in your own pad.
Yesterday felt bad. Awful, horrible, profligately wrong and unstomachable. From the heights of the third tier at the Nou Camp to the very end of the gutter.
Liverpool started the match well, had their own chances in the first half, mostly thanks to Riise's left foot and Bellamy's supremacy of Vidic. Then they started the second half with all guns blazing, came off their blocks really quickly, had their precious chances but they still didn't get anything to show for it. During the middle of the second half, they still were on top, but with a slower tempo. The dying minutes saw the very best chance of the game go to the fresh Peter Crouch, who afforded to chest the ball and volley it on target. Whilst chesting the ball, the opposing keeper composed himself and answered with a top class save. It seemed like a scoreless draw was carved on a stone and it had to be accepted. It was probably through carved in sand, as in the very dying minutes of the match, Liverpool conceded a free-kick, the ball bobbled in the six yard box and the rest is history.
In a match that Liverpool dominated the centre-back Jamie Carragher still looked head and shoulders above his team mates. It defies logic and for the umpteenth time he showed his pure commitment to the cause and more than that his class. He is not your average bulldog spirit who is all shouts and air punches. His two perfect tackles in space of seconds in the first half were marvellous and a joy to behold. A leader on and off the pitch. I showered Momo's name with praise in my last piece, and it was only deserving but yesterday was a different story altogether. He had a timely block in the first minutes of the match, but yesterday unlike in the Nou Camp he ended up with the task of composing attacks rather than destroying them which is his true forte. As much as I hate to say it, he failed miserably as most of the times he looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights and squandered possession over and over again. Having said that, it shows Liverpool's dominance that the main destroyer ended up with the ball in his foot rather than trying to win it back for his team-mates. Considering that Steven Gerrard was sacrificed to the right to accomodate him, maybe a substitution to enable the captain shifting to the middle of the park should have been on the cards.
Time and time again, we have seen good runs being ruined after a defeat to them. This time with Barcelona round the corner, it just cannot be even contemplated. I would even dare saying that prior the match, most fans had their minds mostly on Tuesday rather than on them. The talk was mostly of what a wonderful European night it should be. The great result and the memories at the Nou Camp cannot be tarnished next Tuesday.
It is the perfect occassion to bury yesterday's diabolical taste.
Yesterday felt bad. Awful, horrible, profligately wrong and unstomachable. From the heights of the third tier at the Nou Camp to the very end of the gutter.
Liverpool started the match well, had their own chances in the first half, mostly thanks to Riise's left foot and Bellamy's supremacy of Vidic. Then they started the second half with all guns blazing, came off their blocks really quickly, had their precious chances but they still didn't get anything to show for it. During the middle of the second half, they still were on top, but with a slower tempo. The dying minutes saw the very best chance of the game go to the fresh Peter Crouch, who afforded to chest the ball and volley it on target. Whilst chesting the ball, the opposing keeper composed himself and answered with a top class save. It seemed like a scoreless draw was carved on a stone and it had to be accepted. It was probably through carved in sand, as in the very dying minutes of the match, Liverpool conceded a free-kick, the ball bobbled in the six yard box and the rest is history.
In a match that Liverpool dominated the centre-back Jamie Carragher still looked head and shoulders above his team mates. It defies logic and for the umpteenth time he showed his pure commitment to the cause and more than that his class. He is not your average bulldog spirit who is all shouts and air punches. His two perfect tackles in space of seconds in the first half were marvellous and a joy to behold. A leader on and off the pitch. I showered Momo's name with praise in my last piece, and it was only deserving but yesterday was a different story altogether. He had a timely block in the first minutes of the match, but yesterday unlike in the Nou Camp he ended up with the task of composing attacks rather than destroying them which is his true forte. As much as I hate to say it, he failed miserably as most of the times he looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights and squandered possession over and over again. Having said that, it shows Liverpool's dominance that the main destroyer ended up with the ball in his foot rather than trying to win it back for his team-mates. Considering that Steven Gerrard was sacrificed to the right to accomodate him, maybe a substitution to enable the captain shifting to the middle of the park should have been on the cards.
Time and time again, we have seen good runs being ruined after a defeat to them. This time with Barcelona round the corner, it just cannot be even contemplated. I would even dare saying that prior the match, most fans had their minds mostly on Tuesday rather than on them. The talk was mostly of what a wonderful European night it should be. The great result and the memories at the Nou Camp cannot be tarnished next Tuesday.
It is the perfect occassion to bury yesterday's diabolical taste.
posted by jean paul at 3:16 am
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