‘Anfield produces the most glorious of European nights.’ Sometimes it feels a bit of a cliché. Whole books have now been written about them all, endless tales have been told, and in a way it might feel like a statement that The Beatles are the greatest ever band in the world, a confirmation of the obvious. On nights like yesterday though, more than a cliché or a confirmation of what we have already known, it was a reinvention of it all. It was like the Beatles putting out another whole album, and you’ve got your hands on it, and you’ve listened to this whole thing on your own for the very first time. There have been great nights at Anfield, that carried their own intensity but I dare say that no match had the same drama, subplots, anti-climaxes and explosion of yesterday. The two matches against Chelsea were magnificent in their own right, but on both occasions Liverpool got early goals, and administered the match in a way they never had to come from behind and were found in a position where everything looked completely lost. These European nights never seem to stop to amaze us all, to carry us through every type of emotion. A rollercoaster would be the first word that comes to my mind to describe it, but at the moment it feels like a hollow and common description that doesn’t do the night any justice. If yesterday’s match was a science experiment, I would say Liverpool would have defied gravity. After having the whole weight of the world crashing on Anfield by Adebayor’s goal, Liverpool reacted by scoring two goals, having every red at Anfield feeling like floating on thin air.

It started awry, and the away goal advantage was succumbed as early as the thirteenth minute. The force of gravity seemed to be having an effect as most reds seemed to be rooted on the ground, while Arsenal whizzed around. But then Sami Hyypia took centre stage. His movement in their penalty area bought him space, and as he connected with Steven Gerrard’s corner, he directed the ball to a place where Almunia felt unworthy to even try to dive to. Contrary to awry, the start of the second half was pretty much aligned on the right track, as Liverpool were imposing themselves into the match, looking to undo the balance of the tie. And after the first goal by the one that has been here, done it all, got the shirt and the medal in the process, it was the turn to the European apprentice to put his name on the score-sheet and Liverpool’s folklore. Finding himself in the penalty area surrounded with white shirts, he turned and just stabbed the ball into the net, once again leaving the opposing keeper rooted on his line.

It was a strike worthy of any match-winner, a good enough conclusion to any poem. But Theo Walcott had a long run that looked more as a marathon than a sprint. It was enough to open up for Adebayor and give the away goal advantage to Arsenal. One minute later though, the fresh Ryan Babel won a penalty and we had another contrast. After so much frenzied action, everything looked to set itself in slow motion as the captain took the whole responsibility from the penalty spot to restore Liverpool’s advantage and revert the despair into ecstasy. He did it with the expertise and conviction of someone betting his mortgage.

It was still not enough, as Babel won the race and tug with Cesc Fabregas to score Liverpool’s fourth, crescendoing the whole surreality of the night and confirming the already written name of Liverpool in the last four of the Champions League.