Another match, another draw. Another two points dropped. Another feeling of déjà vu. Another feeling of emptiness. Another match to confirm the distance between what we hoped for and where we actually are. In the meantime the air of uncertainty and unrest lingers on. It is not a cause of dirty laundry getting washed in public, but more of unwashed dirty laundry set in public to get examined and laughed at. Big Brother seems to be operating in the corridors of Anfield. The formality of a football match is only there to confirm the above.

The captain further confirms that such uncertainty has lingered for too long now and it is affecting the players. It hasn’t bonded the players together more. It has only fastened a noose on every player’s neck. While a big rope is felt by their necks, their future is hanging by just a thread. Hanging time it is. But the ones who should be hanging exonerate themselves from their jury and leave their seats empty. A football match for them is a mere side occasion in the grand scheme of things. And they probably can’t understand the fuss on it all. Much bigger companies merge, jobs are lost, a few headlines are made and in a few days the headlines look for a different story. Such is life.

Peter Crouch saved face. Rather than a giraffe he looked more like a gazelle. It was still not enough though. We have just moved further through the crossroads. We have to change the road we are in as there is only a big wall in front. The roads offered though are still unlighted and the map does not recognize them. In the meantime, another match will be just another formality. What for the Godfather was more important than life and death, it is now a formality. A word which probably was not allowed in his dictionary.

Times and things change, not always for the better though.