Finding It Hard To Care
After another predictable away loss at the weekend, myself and a handful of fellow reds went to the pub for what is normally a night spent dissecting every last bit of what we have just witnessed, good or bad. For many match-goers it is a ritual to do so; the post-match pint in which you convince yourself to be suitably optimistic/pessimistic with regards to the rest of the season. After Saturday’s result though, I found myself overwhelmed with apathy. As hard as it is to take defeat at Old Trafford or Goodison, or anywhere for that matter, I usually find myself attacking our players, their players, our formation, the referee etc, in futile displays of frustration at a title slipping away again, or at the very least, a somewhat ruined weekend.
This week however, was different. The match was hardly discussed; the vein attempts to criticise Torres’ missed chance, or Skrtel’s positioning where met with grunts of unenthusiastic agreement and a swift change of topic. Even conversation about the X Factor seemed vaguely more appealing. For that reason more than anything else, I hope I am never forced to go through this again.
After spending the last couple of days contemplating my fate as a Liverpool fan, I have come to the conclusion that it is not another bad result, or another bad peformance or seeing our manager’s worryingly convincing impersonation of a lunatic, but a demoralising fear that our misfortunes won’t be turned around under the current regime. Perhaps as Liverpool fans we expect too much from our players, and have to set ourselves realistic targets; a quick remider of Djimi Traore’s Champions League Winners medal puts that thought to bed. ‘The Irregulars’ flag has been present on glorious victories in The San Siro, The Bernabeu, and The Nou Camp for a reason; Liverpool shouldn’t just try and meet what is thought to be acceptable. As a team, a club, and a city it isn’t the way things are done. But at the moment I can’t escape the sinking feeling of acceptance that for the first time in my life as a Liverpool fan, that the remarkable is simply not achievable. During my time supporting Liverpool, the pride I was always told I would feel in saying the words ‘we are Liverpool’ has always rang true. Now though, it seems more appropriate to say ‘at least we’re not Everton’.
To some extent I think we are experiencing the calm after the storm. The war against the Americans was won, which has resulted in us being subject solely to the dross on display on the field, and an acceptance it will continue until at least the end of the season if you are to believe the papers. Having something to fight for now seems like an enviable thought. By that I am not for a second saying I would have the Americans back, but the siege mentality created through Rafa’s reign against the media and our owners united us in a belief that Rafa could, and would, prove the papers wrong, or that we would win the title once the owners were successfully ousted. How times have changed. The biggest fight I have on my hands now is refraining from crying into my pint after the next woeful display Hodgson masterminds.
Submitted by Some Team up North
/ 12 hours ago
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