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Starting with three strikers upfront, Rafael Benitez gave out a statement of attacking intent to his squad and red men everywhere. Including both Fernando Torres and Xabi Alonso, both coming back from injury and perhaps not exactly match fit, Benitez then showed he wanted this game badly. His sometimes caution style was seemingly set aside and like the old Kop chant his cry before kick-off must have been Attack, Attack, Attack.

Seven minutes after kick-off and Steven Gerrard opened the score for a dream start. The returning Alonso received a pass fromn Steve Finnan and duly won a free-kick at the very edge of Arsenal’s penalty area. John Arne Riise, rather than hurting the wall or the spectators passed to his captain. The wall moved and through its hole, Gerrard directed his shot which only the net got hurt by.

The press has been waxing lyrically about this current Arsenal side who so far turned the loss of their captain and icon Thierry Henry into their favour. The Southern based and Southern biased media usually blow the virtues and capabilities of their favoured ones out of all proportion, angling their cameras deftly enough to give the illusion of a forest when shooting a garden. I have seen Arsenal every now and then this season. I have been impressed and secretly admired. Today I have to openly admit the lyrical waxing is all well earned. Their passing and interchanging is sublime, everyone comfortable with a ball in his feet, finding each other blindfolded without breaking much sweat. They were chasing the game as early as the seventh minute, panic is not in their vocabulary though, always starting their attacks from the very back with ease. I guess their training does not consist of much running and cardio, probably they play five-a-side games all day.

Arsenal looked like a well trained First Army. Liverpool for their part looked more like a Guerilla. Unconventional, obstinate and feisty. For every ounce of panache and class, Liverpool offered determination, sweat and repulsed admirably. For every Arsenal missile, Liverpool threw hand grenades and had their chances too. Pepe Reina was perfect every time he was called upon, blocking and making the right decisions time and again. He was called for action further than his opposing number but Manuel Almunia hands were stung further. Alonso showed what Liverpool were missing these past six weeks. Operation from the very middle of the pitch, he kept things easy, opening and stretching the Arsenal rearguard when deeming necessary with pinpoint passing. Javier Mascherano complimented him admirably, beasting around the pitch, breaking their momentum as much as possible. Gerrard was Gerrard, the one we like and the one we saw at the start of the season.

Failing to get the second victory at home hurts, and yesterday Liverpool did get agonisingly close. Weighing up everything though, it feels more a case of a point won than two points lost. Against a truly classy side, the reds showed their combativeness and hunger. The short comings were on the other hand shown and the necessary level required for a title winning side was equally laid bare in front of our naked eyes.

The Kaiser

An interview here, with Dietmar Hamann prompted me to remember the farewell article I've put about this German, one of my favourites in the Houllier years, and even in the first Benitez years. It's great to hear, such a good servant of Liverpool FC is happy and doing well. This afternoon I will probably be watching the City match to catch glimpses of him. It's a far cry from the news about him last week, but maybe then the Kraut learnt a bit of mischief during his times in Liverpool. Apparently he always acted the wannabe scouser!

The piece below was written in July 2006 and appeared in Anfield Island.

Signed by Gerard Houllier for something like eight million Sterling back in the Summer of 1999, he was the first major signing by the French Professor after a good year at Newcastle United, albeit more than a few differences with the so called advocate of sexy football Ruud Gullit, where a strike action was even threatened if his move from St James Park would be blocked.

Rather lanky and of a thin stature, you wouldn't bet on the German to make his mark on glamorous magazines. And in fact he didn't. More likely to find him with a copy of the Racing Post, I don't think he was too bothered, as he more than made up for this disappointment with his mark in the mighty reds midfield in a career which span for seven years.

His mark though took its time to start showing and make a difference as he was hit by an injury which postponed his official debut in a red shirt. Whilst carrying an eight million tag, the first months in Liverpool weren't stuff of dreams as the Liverpool midfield had to be taken care of by the captain Jamie Redknapp and a couple of rookies in David Thompson and Steven Gerrard in his absence.

Safely I can say Dietmar's name wasn't sung too loudly during his first season where big progress on the previous season was being recovered which however still wasn't enough to secure a Champions League place. The following season though was very much of a different story. Whilst gunning for an unprecedented cup treble, Hamann excelled and the saying, 'when the going gets tough, the tough gets going' never looked so apt in football terms.

Two particular games stick in my mind in that joyous season, apart from the three finals themselves. Roma away and Roma at home. Liverpool had to face the high flying leaders and eventual winners of the Italian Serie A - AS Roma. With the treble being a distant dream, the mighty reds, that night in gold yellow strips, silenced the Olimpico with two goals by Michael Owen. That night definitely belonged to Michael Owen but equally the return leg at Anfield belonged to a perfect performance by Hamann where I believe he finally became of age as he won tackle after tackle and covered every blade of the grass magnificently.

Hamann's not the ever present at the Man of the Match awards ceremony, and especially on television, it's hard to fully appreciate him, but the dirty work he puts in is invaluable. He's that type of player who's more likely to be felt when he's missing rather than while present. Bayer Leverkusen in the Champions League quarter-finals sadly springs to mind.,

The back four always found a lot of refuge in him and one enduring image of him is definitely during the dying minutes of a match, when the reds are winning by the odd goal. As regular as clockwork he would demand the ball, shield it, treat it as invaluable jewel and inevitably wins a free-kick off the bully who dares challenging him!

His last kick for the reds was as apt as ever. From eleven yards during a penalty shoot-out he helped the reds for their seventh FA Cup victory. He just repeated his heroics of the previous 12 months when he beat Dida and had more than a hand to turn a sure defeat into a victory and a parade in the streets of Liverpool.

All the best Kaiser!

Try as they might to get out of jail in the last minutes in Istanbul, Liverpool realized that the key was long thrown and buried away in Turkish soil. Turkish jails are notorious for being unforgiving, and the last couple of minutes only reaffirmed the conception. Liverpool’s performance yo-yoed between abysmal to acceptable, destitute to hopeful, but ultimately it will be only after the return match at Anfield in two weeks time where we learn whether this hope against hope of qualifying to the last sixteen is justified. And still, Liverpool will be needing all the help they can get from Marseille. Together with the points for the day, Liverpool let slip command of their destiny from their hands. Having a far from prohibitive group, the situation is surely disappointing and definitely does not add up to Liverpool’s rich and unique European pedigree.

With the game only thirteen minutes old, Jamie Carragher revived the art of the tackle. Elegantly and at the same time courageous in his six yard box, my man of the match timed himself to perfection to steal the ball from the attacker’s feet who now had only Reina to beat. The piece of art though was destroyed in a few seconds. After finishing a great piece of work, Jamie handed the piece to his mates, but there was no time to admire his work, as the clearance ricocheted off Finnan’s shins, found itself at another Besiktas lad who shot at goal. Hyypia’s body only helped to deflect the shot, out-maneuver Reina and give Besiktas the lead. Rather than congratulating Carra for his perfect tackle and get reminded again how magical it would be to have a whole team of Carraghers, we ended up cursing our luck.

Liverpool did respond for this deficit, and the captain in particular was only denied by a good block by their keeper. Voronin also went close but the red men still made their way into their dressing-room with a one goal deficit, similar to as last Saturday at Goodison Park. There was no saving of faces this time round. And rather than over-turning the deficit, the deficit was only increased. The off the pace Hyypia made way for Crouch and Liverpool reduced their deficit immediately through a nod by Crouch towards Gerrard who with another header beat their keeper.

The substitutes did make a difference. Benayoun was more effective in his half an hour than the whole hour afforded to Pennant, and I know who I’d rather have next Sunday against Arsenal. Crouch was sent into the fray too late, and for a side trailing one nil, am afraid that says quite a lot about the gaffer’s faith into the former.

Arsenal is now even more do-or-die. The Anfield record will be put under more scrutiny as Liverpool cannot afford another below-par performance, having only beaten Derby County so far. The Premiership has been classed as the first priority for the season. While it could be argued that such scenario can afford more dedication for the title, the last time Liverpool failed to qualify from the group stages, they only went to have one of the poorest seasons in recent memory. Rafael Benitez is now at the same stage of his Liverpool career as the then Liverpool manager.

After failing to beat Spurs at home, proceeded by an awful display at home against Marseille in the Champions League, the international break could not come early enough. Whilst it could be argued the first international break has broken Liverpool’s momentum, being just after the six-nil rout over Derby County, this time it was welcomed, even though it has robbed Rafael Benitez some precious time to work with his lads. Being the Merseyside derby, it was even better, as such games usually throw the form book out of the window.

Liverpool seemed to start the better of the two teams, and had the better chance when Yossi Benayoun profited from a misunderstanding between a pair of Everton defenders and sneaked into their penalty area. Being closed down and without a clear sight of their goal, the Jew showed his altruism and passed to the advancing Andriy Voronin. The Ukrainian had a decent shot at goal but was central enough for Tim Howard to save without much difficulty and agility needed. Gradually though, Liverpool were surrendering their dominance and looked every bit like the unconfident side of a fortnight ago. Sami Hyypia then added salt to the injury by beating Pepe’ Reina with an exquisite finish. Whilst the loyal Finn was dead unlucky, the deficit wasn’t unexpected or harsh, a bit like a rainy day in winter with the weather not being too bad.
For the first time this season, the red men made their way to the dressing room at half-time a goal down.

Steven Gerrard had been rather indifferent lately, fitting well with the off-form Liverpool. Yesterday, in the first forty-five minutes, he wasn’t having his best day, with his frown fixed on his face. Then, at the fifty-third minute, Voronin passed to him and with Everton still in Liverpool’s half after being awarded a corner, he accelerated with conviction towards the Everton goal and only an infringement by Tony Hibbert stopped him from having a shot with the goal at his mercy. For the first time this season, the official in black awarded Liverpool a penalty and sent the latter off. Dirk Kuyt took responsibility, sent the keeper to his left, and the ball to his right to level the score and open his account in this season’s Premiership. Game on.

Eighteen minutes later though, the boss decided to take his captain off. For the first time in four years, with the points still being chased for, an uninjured Gerrard was taken off. The captain was shocked, but with dignity and calmness handed the armband to Jamie Carragher and trotted off the pitch. Considering his substitute being Lucas Leiva, the Brazilian twenty year old who hasn’t had any taste of the Premiership so far, never mind the full blooded Merseyside derby, the decision even looked stranger. All kind of thoughts were going through my mind. A mate sitting next to me told me Rafa just wants to make a point every time. Another mate, and a good red texted me and told me it’s unbelievable. I for a minute thought it’s a clash of personalities. For Rafa though, it was another decision.

Liverpool impetus continued, chances got created, chances got missed. The best chance fell on Momo Sissoko, but Momo being presented with a chance face to face with the keeper is like offering a deliciously cooked fillet to a vegetarian. He screwed the ball horribly. The Malian looked to be improving at the start of the season, even scoring his first goal for Liverpool against Sunderland but at the moment his passing is too awful. He is no Igor Biscan, never mind Patrick Vieira.

With the clocking ticking fast, Liverpool looked to keep their unbeaten record but failed again to get the three points so badly needed. For the second time in succession though, Liverpool scored in the dying minutes, in the added minutes to be more exact. Kuyt was denied by a Howard save, the rebound fell to Gerrard’s substitute Leiva who had a shot at goal only to be handled by Phil Neville on the line. Gary’s sweeter brother laid on the turf before the inevitable red card, and the ice cold Kuyt kept his nerves and for the second time went to his right from the penalty spot to beat Howard and give the three points to Liverpool.

Some more drama was still in the offing, with Everton protesting for a penalty. Everton and protests are not too innovative though. Yesterday’s protests seemed to be more animated than those against the Kirkby move though. The final whistle then transformed all Carragher’s passion and adrenaline into one long sprint with arms wide aloft to the travelling reds.

The derby enabled Liverpool to get back on the winning track, the hard way. The gloomy thundercloud during the half-time break failed to rain, and a clearer sky is now above us. Besiktas next Wednesday and even more the high-flying Arsenal on Sunday will test our skies even further and confirm whether is that a star that I can see so far off.

The vehicle of Liverpool F.C. has gone along the local roads without ever breaking up so far. The journey has been perfect-shy though, a few uneasy voices can be heard, a couple of scratches can be seen which are uneasy and visible even by those with red-tinted glasses. Last year, this vehicle found it difficult turning corners and waited till December for the first corner to be properly turned without breaking up on the way or the very least getting scratched by the walls of either side. This time round, the very first corner was turned with a technique that befits any experienced driver. Through the following three corners, it repeated the technique two times out of three. Having turned rather difficult and at times blind-eye corners, the familiar straight roads were expected to be driven through with confidence, panache and with a bigger engine than last year’s, it was expected to hum nicely and crisp enough, sounding like music to any motor enthusiast. But inexplicably the straight, familiar roads have been dealt awkwardly, even though having sympathisers waving and cheering from both sides of the road.

Yesterday, the Spurs match summed up for me the other seven matches so far in the Premiership. The emotions were as strange, a last minute goal from Fernando Torres failing to bring elation. And after the final whistle, the Spaniard was shaking the under-fire Martin Jol’s hand, more in a sheepishly way than in a bullish mood.
‘Sorry mate, I don’t really know what to make of it all’.

Good at times, pretty good at other times, dodgy in some moments, the engine kept revving up after a very timely intervention before the whole thing died. An early goal usually settles the nerves, what the forwards earn, the defenders do not squander very easily. Yesterday though, Robbie Keane and Dimitar Berbatov were mistaken for Santa Clauses, Sami Hyypia undone the purse strings, Jamie Carragher got a tenner out of it and Pepe Reina handed it over the counter.

At the other end, Andriy Voronin opened the score through a tap-in after a Steven Gerrard free-kick which beat the wall. Paul Robinson only saved partially and the Ukrainian’s positioning and instinct made it all easy for him to stab the ball home. It wasn’t the only contribution by Voronin though. Far from it, he was everywhere and won my personal man of the match award. At one particular time he even took over the centre-back’s role and slid to avert any danger. He showed a great understanding with the other scorer Torres and showed his altruism by feeding Gerrard in the penalty area. He had every right to have a go himself, but being rather angled and sensing his captain in a better position he chose to pass.

Steven Gerrard’s yesterday performance was another epitome of Liverpool’s and his season so far. Pushing forward with guile, winning free-kicks, taking charge of set-pieces, paves the way for the first goal, gets dead unlucky in the next one, as he beats the wall, the keeper but not the post. At other times, not being clinical enough after a Voronin pass with the goal at his mercy, he shoots at the lad on the floor. Other parts of the game he went missing, his drive and captain’s leadership qualities conspicuously absent.

Eight games to the good and with an international break to give Rafa more time to himself and Jermaine Pennant, the story so far is grey but not in a murky way. Liverpool are still unbeaten, but have failed to win more than two consecutive games, having drawn as many as they have won. They are six points behind the leaders Arsenal, but with an encounter and chance in three weeks time to directly address this deficit before it’s too late.

A one-nil reversal at home. Against a side that has accepted a couple of our rejects in the past and even in the present. The post was hit in the dying minutes. Yet I could not feel aggrieved or felt like complaining about the result. The performance has been truly abysmal, dire and disjointed. The lads just couldn’t keep their feet on the ground, sliding over their arses time and again, as if yesterday was the first rainy day in Anfield’s history. The match and performance was out of place and out of synch with the much awaited and revered European nights at Anfield as much as a recession is with prosperity.

Reina got beaten for the first time from open play and this time even from outside his penalty area. Still he was one of the top performers and had no chance with their goal. It was one of them unstoppable shots, curving through the crossbar before bouncing over the line. He looked secure in everything he did, but unfortunately was one of the very few. The left flank manned or better populated by Aurelio and Leto was the biggest contrast to Reina’s assuredness. Both looked like the proverbial rabbits caught in the headlights. I feel it was one game too early for Leto and the jump from Toulouse in the preliminaries to Marseille in the Champions League group stages proved too steep for the Argentinean. He was sent to a congested motorway after only driving in an empty car park. His team mates around him did not help either. There were no-one around to shadow his mistakes and uncertainties, and no sublime performers to talk about today after the match to forget the negatives either. On his right, his captain Gerrard has been a pale shadow of the superlative one against Aston Villa and Chelsea. Since his broken toe and two games in five days for England after such injury, he has never really picked up. Alongside him Sissoko gave the ball away countless times, and it’s no surprise the move to their goal started after he lost the ball. I called him a Malian energy box after the Sunderland match, but he’s back to losing possession cheaply again. He can run every blade of the pitch for you any day but when Liverpool have the onus to attack and distribution rather than destroying is imperative, he is a somewhat liability.

Benitez admitted this as one of the worst performances of his time in Liverpool. Whether yesterday was an off day as a result of over confidence and complacency considering the opponents were only the Ligue 1 bottom team, or something more serious and deeper than that - an effect of Pako Ayestran’s departure or a black November coming early, will be partly answered by the display and result against troubled Martin Jol’s Spurs next Sunday.