The unfinished pyramid on the back of the dollar bid demonstrates the piecemeal nature of building a country, an idea while a few replaceable first teamers do the same for us. There s always room for improvement. Ironically, the main reason why we’ve fallen from second place to the palpable relief of sixth is down mostly to the two natives from that nation.
July 2010 was a grim time. Reds divided on the dismissal of a European Cup winning manager, the fat hogs in the boardroom lighting cigars with $20 bills at the Spaniard’s departure (not their cash obviously, but RBS’) and the managerial selection team looking through the latest Rothmans Yearbook to see who the cool kids are talking about. Three months later Liverpool were hovering above the relegation zone having had a newly promoted side waltz around Anfield. Mascherano ran off to play with his mates and Torres was turning his trembling lower lip to West London. Our manager had talked of a famous away victory at Bolton (his only away win in the League) and his relief at a tricky point at Birmingham, who would also be relegated.
Was Hodgson solely to blame? Of course not. Had someone offered me the manager’s job I would have leapt at it like Nani at an outstretched leg. The case for him was bold, even laudable but he was embarrasingly out of his depth. Experience is one thing but it is nothing without wisdom. Grinning like Fagan as Moyes thanked us for our surrender, the crack about hoping Ferguson will still talk to him and the media’s horror of any criticism gave even the biggest optimists a moment’s pause. Come the Blackburn game he was all played out and our new owners listened to the fans and not the pundits. Roy came back of course and beat us at the Hawthorns because that is what he’s good at – getting average players to play as a unit and defy more talented teams. Give him the talented team to begin with and motivation is a little trickier to instil.
Was he solely to blame? Well, his signings didn’t help. When Rafa sold Sissoko to Juventus they dropped Christian Poulsen. Hodgson bought him back. For money. Lots of it. Meireles is his most successful signing and the jury is still out for many there. Then there’s Joe Cole but let’s leave him to the dark winter night conversations of a ‘what the f…’ nature.
If Blackpool was the League nadir Northampton was his lowest game. If Hodgson deserves any credit from that debacle, and he doesn’t, it’s that he dropped all but one of those players for the next game. He may have been the least successful Liverpool manager since the 1950’s but the attitude of his first team can claim an assist. Reina unusually shaky, Carragher and Skrtel equally nervous and Glen Johnson’s hair getting in the way of his positional sense, his eye for a pass, his running and his attitude. The midfield lacked pace and Droopy Drawers only played well in one game – Liverpool v Job Interview. More of him later.
Then the world changed.
It was a JFK moment. I was driving home when I heard the that HE had returned to us. Many had given up hope after Broughton had dismissed him as a serious candidate but he was back in the dugout with THAT grin and THAT smirk at the press. ‘We don't intend to mislead people but we have a huge responsibility to do our business in a way that has been done since I've known the club and that is in private.’ Oh, thank you for that. The pressroom must have groaned in disappointment. Much was made of Hodgson’s affability with the press but we’re not a club or fan base who welcome them. One bitten, twice Sky. When Gray and Keys skulked out of the mainstream game to sell carpet tiles Kenny asked the Sky journalist if it was okay if a woman was in the room, again with THAT smile. Hunting season on LFC was suddenly over. Patrick Barclay derided anyone who questioned Hodgson, everyone else in the Fergworld went for Rafa’s jugular because he could hurt them. Kenny just smiled and told them he wasn’t playing to their rules. This weekend the loathsome Rod Liddle of The Sunday Times told his reader that Hodgson would become a legend had he taken Liverpool down. Not too subtle, Rodney. They don’t like it up ‘em, Captain.
The nay-saying made it to his second debut at Old Trafford. Ferguson faked surprise at the appointment with a sniffy ‘well, that’s up to them’ as if the very notion appalled him. Thirty seconds later Kenny was welcomed back by Howard Webb. This is how we do things now, boss.
It wasn’t quite the miracle we’d hoped for. Blackpool beat us again and West Ham’s midfield embarrassed us but there were little signs. Firstly, Flanagan came in and out Rob Jonesed Rob Jones. Next came Robinson who was eased into a cauldron of a game at the Emirates against players deemed far superior. No big deal. Suarez and Carroll were added to the squad with varying degrees of success and the talk of a former number nine, a man who Kenny praised constantly during their three weeks together, was made with a wry grin and the talk of ‘good business’. Lucas has been voted the player of the year but he fought off the best Dirk Kuyt spell I’ve ever seen. Jay Spearing is a completely different player, so much so that his partnership with the Brazilian has led to many wondering where Gerrard will play on his return.
What Dalglish has done is bring latent ability to the fore, something his predecessors failed to promote. Five against Fulham and Birmingham (six for Maxi!) and a workman ‘get out of the way’ performance against Newcastle. More than that he’s made match day fun again. Players smiling, fans smiling, me only frowning for 80% of the game. Progress indeed.
The last two games blunted the season somewhat but maybe it’s for the best. We don’t want to run ahead of ourselves. The horror of seventh has been offset by the optimism of sixth. We’re not there yet. We’re still a work in progress.