Fish Food

I’m pretty sure that even the most avid Forest fan had not expected this result. Had you bet on it before the game, I’m fairly certain you’d have gotten some pretty terrific odds. Even Sean Dyche, the grumpiest man in the Premier League, and arguably in all of England, allowed himself a quiet smirk towards the end, which the cameras captured beautifully. Still, he set his team up well, and that creeping sense of doom, a realization that something isn’t right on merseyside, was made painfully clear under the bright spotlights on the hill at Liverpool:

Coming to Anfield – what used to be one of the most feared home stadia in Europe – these days is like going to an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The Tricky Trees – I had to look that one up, because I needed something to cheer me up and Forest do have some of the oddest nicknames – were not in a good moment coming into the game, either. There really was no particular reason why they shouldn’t walk home with their gills tucked between their cheeks (here, again, like with the column’s title, I am amusing myself with a Forest related pun; I’ll let you figure it out for yourselves.) Indeed, in a somewhat mysterious reversal of the trend leading into this game, Liverpool actually played well in the first half, and mostly dominated their visitors.

The outcome, however, was the same. And when Forest added a second less than a minute into the first half, I had to check whether somebody was playing a joke and I was watching a “flip replay” where they had switched the first and second halves to mess with me. I mean, it sure did seem that way by the time the game ended. Since I am minded to write puns and confusing sentences (what else is there?) then I shall state that this second half was the worst first half Liverpool had played this season so far.

That’s saying something.

The Reds – no, not ours, theirs (really, Forest? Just let have Reds please, OK?) – played their socks off once they smelled blood, and the Reds – ours this time – capitulated beautifully. Had we played this way against Arsenal a few weeks ago, they would have scored six, seven, or more. Slot’s solution these days, which is to switch to a Football Manager busted-tactics 3-1-6 formation, led to a series of slapstick moments of players running into each other, even more so than Kerkez and Gakpo were doing when we were in some sort of control of the match.

The whole thing was insulting, and while I don’t usually condone it, seeing the buffet – sorry, Anfield – emptying after Forest notched their third seemed like a proper sort of protest.

Perhaps the most maddening thing for me, as am admittedly spoiled couch surfer sitting comfortably at home, was the body language. Remember Klopp’s mentality monsters? This group, right now, is more like a half-burned matchsticks. It’s not even a lack of confidence anymore, which explains the lack of finishing; it feels more like a complete disintegration of belief the moment something turns against them. And a Sean Dyche team, in particular, will always be too happy to dance on your smoldering ashes, which they did today with gusto.

This is a nadir, folks. Yes, Liverpool has been in worse situations before, but not as the reigning champions and the biggest transfer window spenders. As to how to solve it, I have no clue; that’s Arne Slot’s job. But I do know this:

If this, today, doesn’t shock the system, then nothing will.