Something is rotten at Anfield
As Howard Webb's whistle drew the show to a close, some among the Anfield faithful reached with one hand to draw for their knives, offering only a tired groan of despondence in response to a performance that deserved little more. Of course, their sheaths contained no such weaponry, for the knives were drawn long, long ago, and the worn, tattered and blunt blades had rested in the other palm for so many a decade, that they had simply forgotten. For most, the knives were already waiting. Brendan Rodgers' second defeat in three league ties has punched Liverpool into a fiery media spotlight, and the Northern Irishman was already forced to assure reporters of his own position in the post-match press conference. "I have spoken to people in America since Friday. They have my thoughts", is the snippet Rodgers threw away in response to his club's dreadful end to the transfer window. A snippet that speaks volumes. A snippet eerily similar to the public lambastes Rodgers' predecessor but two was known to angrily spit out in interviews when queried in regards to his management's transfer dealings. A snippet that concealed frustration, the sort of despair Rodgers' most immediate predecessor would attempt to conceal by simply hurling abuse at whoever dared ask the sensitive question. You see, nothing changes at Liverpool. Nothing.
Arsenal, for what it's worth, were every bit the side Liverpool dream of becoming. An oiled machine, carefully crafted over what will soon be sixteen years of engineering. Mertesacker, Vermaelen, Diaby and Arteta marshalled an impeccable organisation from which the creative genius of Santi Cazorla could spring, manipulate and in the second half, tease Liverpool's attempts at pressing and snatching the ball in dangerous areas. Lukas Podolski joined in the show, opening his Arsenal account with a rasping finish in the first half, while Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain displayed fight and strength on the flank. It could have been more. Olivier Giroud's movement occasionally troubled Agger and Skrtel, who were both let off by his habitual attempts to rush through the ball. Joe Allen was by far the best performer in Rodgers' side, twisted and turning, weaving and caressing the ball in sharp attempts to direct Liverpool forward. Allen's passing was a joy to behold and at long last it seems, the club has found a replacement for Xabi Alonso. Raheem Sterling offered endless endeavour to strong affect, and was straining to escape the shackles of the much improved Karl Jenkinson all game, while Nuri Sahin's composed outing perhaps bore the marks of nerves. Yet Liverpool's attempts to maintain and control possession were compromised by a squad riddled with inability. Steven Gerrard's penchant for the killer ball was matched all too often by a lack of accuracy, and it has become rather obvious why, during the the best years of Gerrard's career, he was typically deployed way ahead of the central midfield zone, with two of the world's best midfielders covering behind him. Luis Suarez' early promise rapidly degenerated into perpetually conceding the ball, while Jose Manuel Reina's distribution, shot-stopping and temperament were a million miles away from the form that earned him three consecutive Golden-Glove awards. The substitute bench, as it has for over a year, promised little and executed nothing. Mid-table mediocrity is a stain that has bleached Steward Downing's reputation and looks set to settle upon Jordan Henderson's. Rodgers was seen to be sat on his dugout in near resign at his side's display; shouts from the side are of little to use to individuals whom for so long, have appeared inept and outdated at the highest level. Wenger similarly, rarely ventured from his dugout. Yet Wenger didn't need to. And his side didn't need him to either.
With Andy Carroll gone and a replacement lacking, Michael Owen has been mooted as a potential solvent to the substance of Liverpool's on-pitch problems. Yet the club's issues run much deeper. Haunted by the spectre of Dalglish and Comolli, Rodgers spent the summer attempting to undo the decimation of yesteryear, trying to sell off one here, bring in one there, whilst chopping the wage-bill significantly in the process. The yolk of Rafael Benitez' sacking still binds the club in misery; not since have Liverpool competed in the Champions League, and not since have they ever looked capable. Rodgers' core remains similar to that of the Benitez team that finished second; Reina, Agger, Skrtel, Carragher, Gerrard, and until this summer, Dirk Kuyt. Yet time has scampered on, and Liverpool's gold has been ruthlessly blasted by the mines of history. Investment remains, as it has done for the past two decades, inconsistent and inefficiency, as it has done for the past two decades, scars every transaction, move and deal conducted by the club's upper ranks. Rodgers has enormous work to do, in even arresting Liverpool's graduall slide away from English football's elite.
Arsenal, for what it's worth, were every bit the side Liverpool dream of becoming. An oiled machine, carefully crafted over what will soon be sixteen years of engineering. Mertesacker, Vermaelen, Diaby and Arteta marshalled an impeccable organisation from which the creative genius of Santi Cazorla could spring, manipulate and in the second half, tease Liverpool's attempts at pressing and snatching the ball in dangerous areas. Lukas Podolski joined in the show, opening his Arsenal account with a rasping finish in the first half, while Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain displayed fight and strength on the flank. It could have been more. Olivier Giroud's movement occasionally troubled Agger and Skrtel, who were both let off by his habitual attempts to rush through the ball. Joe Allen was by far the best performer in Rodgers' side, twisted and turning, weaving and caressing the ball in sharp attempts to direct Liverpool forward. Allen's passing was a joy to behold and at long last it seems, the club has found a replacement for Xabi Alonso. Raheem Sterling offered endless endeavour to strong affect, and was straining to escape the shackles of the much improved Karl Jenkinson all game, while Nuri Sahin's composed outing perhaps bore the marks of nerves. Yet Liverpool's attempts to maintain and control possession were compromised by a squad riddled with inability. Steven Gerrard's penchant for the killer ball was matched all too often by a lack of accuracy, and it has become rather obvious why, during the the best years of Gerrard's career, he was typically deployed way ahead of the central midfield zone, with two of the world's best midfielders covering behind him. Luis Suarez' early promise rapidly degenerated into perpetually conceding the ball, while Jose Manuel Reina's distribution, shot-stopping and temperament were a million miles away from the form that earned him three consecutive Golden-Glove awards. The substitute bench, as it has for over a year, promised little and executed nothing. Mid-table mediocrity is a stain that has bleached Steward Downing's reputation and looks set to settle upon Jordan Henderson's. Rodgers was seen to be sat on his dugout in near resign at his side's display; shouts from the side are of little to use to individuals whom for so long, have appeared inept and outdated at the highest level. Wenger similarly, rarely ventured from his dugout. Yet Wenger didn't need to. And his side didn't need him to either.
With Andy Carroll gone and a replacement lacking, Michael Owen has been mooted as a potential solvent to the substance of Liverpool's on-pitch problems. Yet the club's issues run much deeper. Haunted by the spectre of Dalglish and Comolli, Rodgers spent the summer attempting to undo the decimation of yesteryear, trying to sell off one here, bring in one there, whilst chopping the wage-bill significantly in the process. The yolk of Rafael Benitez' sacking still binds the club in misery; not since have Liverpool competed in the Champions League, and not since have they ever looked capable. Rodgers' core remains similar to that of the Benitez team that finished second; Reina, Agger, Skrtel, Carragher, Gerrard, and until this summer, Dirk Kuyt. Yet time has scampered on, and Liverpool's gold has been ruthlessly blasted by the mines of history. Investment remains, as it has done for the past two decades, inconsistent and inefficiency, as it has done for the past two decades, scars every transaction, move and deal conducted by the club's upper ranks. Rodgers has enormous work to do, in even arresting Liverpool's graduall slide away from English football's elite.
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