Trentomenal
When Trent struck that ball, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. It was a world class strike before you consider that he hit it with his weaker foot, and remember that he isn’t a forward; add those two elements, and it became a galaxy class strike. The timing of it, the necessity, the focus, how cleanly he struck it – it was a captain’s sort of goal, a “I’m not letting this one go” moment if I ever saw one. And then the thought hit me with the force of two planets colliding – this is very likely to be one of the very last times we see him in Red. He won’t be the captain, as he was destined to become in a couple of years. Tears welled up in my eyes.
Made for an awkward celebration on my couch, I’ll tell you that.
Other than that, we had a game, and as is very much Liverpool’s style these days, for the most part, they played down to the level of their opponents. Had the Foxes been even a tiny bit…foxier…they could have easily snatched a point or even three, but their level of disorganization was so vastly inferior, they just couldn’t capitalize on the Reds’ sincere effort to keep them in the game. There was an illustrative moment towards the end when both Virgil and Konate were physically behind Leicester’s goal, but Hermansen simply couldn’t find anyone to throw or kick the ball to for a quick counter. In the end, Liverpool continues to phone it in.
Stats, you say? We totally dominated, didn’t we? Look at the pretty pretty numbers.
Well, thankfully, soccer is played on the field, not in Opta’s super computer, and I dare anybody who actually watched this game to say that it was good, or even particularly average. For a team who has scored about two and half goals per game coming into this one, the Reds looked so pitifully lacking in punching power.
Can you point out a legitimately good individual performance? I suppose Lucho was decent, as he has been recently, and Macca did solid work, as he does every week, and Virgil did what he had to do in his imperious fashion, but if I gave out ratings, those performance were sixes, nothing more. I was so bored for long stretches that I’m going to award my man-of-the-match to Leicester’s Luke Thomas, because he had a spirited, even sparkling performance on Mo’s side and killed so many Liverpool attacking developments his gun barrel must have run out of room for notches.
And that should tell you everything you need to know. If you missed the game and were planning on watching the replay, trust me when I say, save yourself the trouble. Watch the corner leading to Trent’s goal, and otherwise spare yourself the agony. I’ll take my own advice and cut this column short.
Still, winning this one keeps Liverpool on track to be crowned champions next Sunday at Anfield – which I don’t doubt for a second is going to happen – and like everyone else who isn’t, I wish I could be there too.
I guess yawning your way to the title is one way of doing it.