That was a different type of a European night at Anfield. This was no pole vault springing the name of Liverpool FC to unprecedented heights, and as the bar gets raised higher and higher, the higher the decibels of the Anfield roar springing the reds as much as the pole vault itself. And below the bar there was no cushion aired with pride to soften the blow of the fall that after all was more than we expected to be. This was a mere race for the thing. There were no odds to fight off. Liverpool were the odds-on favourites themselves.

At the end the pole vault got grabbed and a place in the Champions League group stages was assured. The usual guarantee of these last few years under Rafa’s reign looked hollow as a Gillett or Hick’s promise. It was apt though for such guarantee to be renewed by someone who promises you hard work and never lets you down even though sometimes his own touch does let him down. But when the odds were stacked against and the fear of failure was burning Anfield’s green grass brown he kept on grafting and broke a deadlock nearing closely to 3 ½ hours. Take a bow Dirk Kuyt. In such circumstances he was not exactly the hero but the resolute soldier who probably time will forget.

It all started from the back before though. Pepe Reina made sure the tie was kept in the balance and the adventure of Standard Liege was kept up to certain restrictions with no serious after-effects and never achieving legendary status on the Belgian shores. His alertness was impeccable as much as his agility, as twice he pulled out two great saves. This is definitely his best ever start to a season, he seems to be carrying the euphoria of Spain’s European triumph and after tasting success albeit from a dugout, he wants more and more of it now. The penalty save in Liege was no flash in the pan.

And the fourth match of the season is now over. Number five beckons on Sunday. Liverpool have got out of them what any red would have asked for, qualification and a six point start. It is not the destination but the journey that we are now debating. It is still well early and matches like yesterday leave you with more questions than answers. A probable fired up Villa side by a certain Mr O’Neill though should be the perfect tonic to continue Liverpool’s nailed on resilience. The fancy and sexy can wait for now.

Yesterday’s match and performance would have made a good presentation and interpretation of the word ‘overturn’. And while the definition and result is definite, it leaves the main door wide open for discussion, whose merits only time and the table will prove right or wrong.
A dodgy start at the opening day of the season at Anfield was overturned to a dogged one, where determination coupled with skill triumphed over what looked so far an inept and lame display even though its start has promised good things, as some interplay between the forwards was making the green grass of Anfield look lush and slick, with such promises though fading out by the minute and every misplaced corner kick, finally looking to have been buried by Mido’s shot that found the back of the net with aplomb.

But what wasn’t done in fourteen corners and eighty-five minutes, was done in ten minutes. It all started by Jamie Carragher improvising a situation and avoiding the embarrassment of another wasted set-piece. As some Boro defender handled the ball, Carra did not wait for Mark Riley’s whistle. He just pounced on the loose ball and with the single mindedness of an escaped prisoner lashed out a shot towards goal. It only hit some body in the penalty area but the momentum of Carra’s strike fuelled by his determination wrong footed the keeper and ended up in the net. The escaped prisoner was not content with just getting some fresh air, he managed to get into some safe haven that three points preclude for the time being at least. And that was through the captain Steven Gerrrad, who like the rest of his team mates was rather off colour so far. But cometh the moment and opportunity, Liverpool’s number eight curled the ball with calmness and audacity that defied the desperation and urgency of the situation.

Liverpool did get out of jail. Again you might argue. My dilemma is whether in the coming matches Liverpool will be paying time on such escapes. Else, such doggedness is the prelude of things to come, and which is liberating the whole team from past mental shackles that the last step to the podium is too still to climb. Luck, skill and bravery have never been mutually exclusive either.

The opening day of the league campaign was now with us. And it was rather annoying that the kick-off was to be prolonged by a couple of hours. There were no questions or second thoughts like last Wednesday though. This is a big day, and the wait is finally over. And looking around me with fellow minded reds, you could feel the glint in most eyes. An hour or so later, and the glint was replaced by a couple of frowns. The proceedings were definitely not matching the anticipation, and it felt eerily like the Wednesday before.

There was a lack of fire, that was either yet to be ignited or else was too meek, being comfortably controlled by the red and white stripes of Sunderland. The absence of Javier Mascherano in particular was being sorely felt as the midfield battle was evenly balanced. The debuting Robbie Keane was epitomizing the game’s state of affairs from Liverpool’s point of view. Eager to shine, at times over trying, but nothing getting his way, contrarily it was him that got in the way of the season opener. Robbie Keane could be exonerated but a loss of two points would have turned the frowns into scowls, as unlike last Wednesday yesterday had no chance to be averted in a fortnight’s time with a return leg at Anfield. The two points would have been lost forever.

Fernando Torres did not need no return legs, nor whole matches to avert the situation. He needed a decent pass, a ball at his feet and just the sight of goal. He was the inflammable that Liverpool’s yet weak kick start needed. The whole difference between a glare and a smile on a lot of people’s faces. He is head and shoulders, aided by pencil heels above the others. Late it was, but Torres ingenuity has no time, and has now passed the test of time. Quiet he was in the earlier proceedings, but at the end he did not just what was needed, but what a genius must.

It is hard not to be carried away by Torres, but after a whole season proving himself, we are justified to place him in the highest echelons. His superiority and ingenuity last year was not enough in the grander scheme of things. In the rather quite summer though, Benitez made sure to complement his main striker. The partnership is yet to ignite but till it does we are safe to think that in this case such partnership can also work in a singular mode.

Three months from the last proper football match with only pre-season matches in between, which only succeeded in one thing: whetting more the appetite. Pre-season matches are just what they are, a work out, where the tension, pride and drama are nowhere near. You just watch through curiosity and through some sense of duty that you feel you owe to the men in red. And so at last the official start of the season was with us. And still it didn’t feel like the real thing. Seemed all I could think of was the 16th August, and the start of the Premiership. These past few seasons this preliminary round felt more like a glorified pre-season friendly. And I felt in the same mood yesterday. And the sight of the turquoise kit did nothing to alleviate the mood.

Still the colour of the kit probably could define the night perfectly. A mixture of an impish performance but that was at least offset by a decent result, which has far from quelled the excitement for the big kick-off come next Saturday. As even though the mood wasn’t at its best, when Standard Liege hit the post, and shortly afterwards they were awarded a penalty it reminded me that while feeling casual, it can have serious consequences. Pepe Reina was one of the very few who rose to the occasion. He has had probably the best summer of his life, earning a European Championship medal and becoming a father. Maybe the tidy performances of Diego Cavalieri and a whole tournament being an understudy to Iker Casillas spurred him on to be at his best and the centre of attention which judging by the footage of the Spanish celebrations, is where he feels most comfortable at. He had something the rest of his team mates seemed to be lacking yesterday – alertness, which was probably the main factor in his penalty save, and subsequently the acceptable result. Most of the remaining ten were lackadaisical and unfocused.

Hopefully all this has nothing to do with the boardroom battle going on about the Barry saga, where once again the authority and judgement of Rafael Benitez has been undermined. Hopefully, it’s just me being paranoid, and come next Saturday, all returns to normal, a weekly dose of local football, a fortnightly extra of European glamour, with football on the pitch being the only talking point. And all this in a red kit.