It all started with a frenetic pace that would have looked more in place at a shopping centre on Christmas Eve rather than on the 13th day of December. Liverpool were spraying the ball around with ease, and arriving into Hull’s penalty area swiftly, an urgent attitude replacing the accustomed patient one. On the other end, Hull did not just sit back, but replicated such approach in their own way, finding holes, unguarded lanes or maybe better sleeping watchmen in the Liverpool rearguard. And in such unguarded lanes and holes, they did not find walls but openings that with some unexpected help gave them a two goal advantage in twenty-two minutes. The lately custom of clean sheets at Anfield was discarded and breached in no time.

While a recent custom was being breached, Liverpool looked to revert to the start of the season custom of coming back with vengeance and claw back the deficit. And as has been the custom for most of these last years at Anfield, Steven Gerrard was at the very thick of it when in eight minutes he found the net twice and leveled the score. The early shock was numbed, and more than that Liverpool looked into the ascendancy, with the third goal hanging in the air. It was not to be though, and the referee’s whistle to signal the end of the first forty-five minutes gave a verdict of a level score, similar to the latest Anfield matches against Fulham and West Ham, but contrary to the latter saw Liverpool far more colourful than the recent blankish one.

Liverpool came back for the second forty-five minutes looking to follow where they left in the prior forty-five. Hull looked menacing when they had a go at Liverpool but were equally shaky when having to defend Liverpool’s attacks. As the clock was winding down though, more urgently than Liverpool’s approach was suggesting, the ideas were getting mixed up and while Sami Hyypia particularly went very close as he hit the post from one corner, the now air of frustration and dread that it is going to be another two points lost at home took centre hold. The final whistle only confirmed such feelings.

By the end the frenetic pace of the start of the match felt like a distant memory. In most other matches at home, two goals would have meant a comfortable victory but Liverpool paid the price for a negligent start at the match. Looking further into it though, it might have been the price for going to the jugular from the onset, after dropping too many points when starting patiently.

Home at the moment is not the cozy place you would think of in a cold day in December. With expectations very high, and a very good away record, it seems the basics are going bereft. The familiar surroundings of Anfield seem to be breeding contempt rather than security. If the league is our bread and butter, home should be the plate where it is all served on. The plate is not yet cracked but it does look damp.