This was the pressure. This was a major team visiting Anfield with a point to prove after a humiliation at their own ground. The humiliation that heralded the upsurge. Not the result that started the title charge though; time will show that the fixture that changed Liverpool’s season was the capitulation at Hull. That result was needed to make this happen.
This was the ‘Yes but Liverpool have only had to play once a week so far. This is the first time that they’ve had to play weekend then midweek then weekend again’. This was the ‘They were anxious against Sunderland, the pressure is getting to them, they were playing well because nothing was expected, now the expectation is there they will stumble.”
This was easy.
This was comfortable, this was consummate, this was a masterclass. All helped, obviously, by the fact that this current Spurs side are veering toward the laughable side of pathetic. Dispassionate, disinterested, disinclined to engage with the game; thoroughly outclassed.
The terrifying aspect to this particular Liverpool win for our title rivals? At no point did we exert ourselves. We crafted, we created, we changed shape, we surprised, we shocked, we were quite simply immense.
Daniel Sturridge had a quiet game. That’s okay. He could have stayed at home and let us play with ten men. The result would have been the same. Next week will be his week. Or the week after. He will have a week. Sunday was about the beauty of Raheem Sterling’s game, his strength, his movement, his ability. Sunday was about Philippe Coutinho and his constant creation. Sunday was about the endless, boundless energy of Jordan Henderson and the command exerted by Steve Gerrard from a position behind the midfield an ahead of the defence. Sunday was about Jon Flanagan executing a Zidane-esque turn on the wing in the lead to Coutinho’s smartly struck third, Suarez capitalising on Michael Dawson’s first hapless touch, Jordan Henderson not allowing missing a sitter to affect him and scoring with a free kick which crept its way through the massed ranks in the Spurs’ area.
And Sunday was about Kaboul allowing us a lead after 1 minute and 47 seconds.
Ultimately Sunday was about Liverpool’s newfound ability to be magnificent without needing to try. This is what we do now.
There are a few songs that have made their presence felt in Anfield of late;
“We are Liverpool. Poetry in Motion.”
and
“Brendan Rodgers’ Liverpool, we’re on our way to glory”
and most notably, most obviously
“And now you’re going to believe us - we’re going to win the league” sung with gusto, feeling, passion and utter, magnificent belief.
We believe. It’s your turn now.