Subs-terfuge
Were you as confused as I was when Quansah came on as our sixth sub? Because my heart stopped in that moment. “Are we really going to lose this game on a technicality after the fact?” I thought – or rather, screamed – silently to myself. “How can this happen?!” came next, followed by “Why aren’t the commentators saying anything? We just made our sixth sub!” and a sardonic “What a way to open up the title race.”
I forgot all about the concussion sub rules. Maybe you did too. With the sincere hope that Jan Bednarek is OK, it was his awful collision with teammate Manning that ultimately afforded Quansah a few minutes in the end.
The Saints have a knack for making our lives miserable, or perhaps it we who have a knack for making our own lives difficult against the Saints. The first half today proved no different. We ran at them, created chances, made stuff happen, and looked utterly incapable of putting Ramsdale in any serious danger – only for Will Smallbone to capitalize on a downright comical mishap between our skipper and stickman to put one in the net right in front of the Kop. I’d be interested in what was going through Virgil and Ali’s heads in the heat of that moment and under significant pressure, but the end result looked rather silly.
Devastating as it was on the cusp of halftime, it also felt right. The Reds needed a jolt to the system, to remind them of what they’re fighting for.
Sensing, perhaps, that it was more opportunity than downfall, Arne Slot phoned in three subs at the half. It was exactly the right move in the circumstances, and it wasn’t so much about the particular players as it was about making sure the team felt that jolt. Clearly having a sixth sub in the pocket made it easier, but I suspect Slot would have ordered a similar move regardless. What Southampton gave Liverpool with that goal was the energy they needed to get out of their stupor.
And boy, did the team respond.
The way the Reds came out of the gate for the second half, there really was nothing Southampton – or any other team, for that matter – could do. The goals were coming, and in a kind of poetic justice, Diaz and Nunez became the heroes of the hour. I had wanted Diaz off, because he was so poor in the first half. That’s why I don’t manage football teams; Lucho was a different player in the second half, the engine of the Saints’ destruction. And then you had Nunez, who found his focus, scored a gorgeous equalizer with a sharp finish, and earned the penalty for Mo to put us ahead.
There was no coming back from that for the Saints. Liverpool dominated and could have scored a bagful but it looked like they were under instructions to preserve energy for the two games ahead. It looked easy from that point onwards, but I had to remind myself of what it took right before the half. So here’s hoping that the jolt was strong enough to keep everyone alert for PSG and the Toons, because both of them are more than capable of hurting the Reds.
Do I have a man-of-the-match? Tough choice. Nobody was consistently good, but Konate was, perhaps, the most consistent throughout, so he gets my nod. With that said, both Lucho and Mac Allister, who came on for Jones, were excellent in the second half, as was Nunez for before he was replaced. Gravenberch was showing sparks as the game progressed, and hopefully it’s an indication that he is about to hit his stride again.
Most important in a game like this are the points, and keeping everyone off the medical rolls. Both targets were, in the end, professionally achieved. Mo added a couple more notches to his busy bun barrel, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise: scoring all these penalties is far from being a given. That 16 points gap at the top must have a psychological impact on certain others, even if they have a couple of games in hand.
It sure looks nice from here.