Saturday, July 23, 2022

Darwin Núñez On Track To Be World-Class Striker By Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2022/07/darwin-nunez-on-track-to-be-world-class-striker/

 

I don’t spend enough time on social media these days to even be aware, until yesterday, that there was some kind of lowlights video of a blister-strewn Darwin Núñez’s first two very brief cameos in an unfamiliar, under-strength, undercooked preseason Liverpool side, but it sounds like the kind of dickish thing you’d expect to exist.

Preseason is not about results, but obviously signs of encouragement are always welcome.

Most players in their careers will have more lowlights than highlights. You could make a compilation of Thiago Alcântara giving the ball away cheaply, even though he is the best passer in the Premier League. This, after all, the age of out-of-context snark.

The majority of shots do not result in goals; plenty go off target. Strikers often lose possession. And penetrative passes are hard to pull off. (Albeit the purveyors of these compilation clips are surely less well-versed in the penetrative arts but world-class experts in pulling off).

To miss a chance – even a sitter – is normal. To miscontrol a ball is normal. To score four goals as a sub, against a top German side, is not normal.

It doesn’t mean Núñez will now score 50 goals this season, but it bodes well; as does Mo Salah, so sharp in the first half, giving him the penalty duty to help break his duck. Had Núñez not scored any, it still wouldn’t have meant there was trouble ahead, as even now players are working hard at their fitness, and playing the games themselves when half-knackered.

RB Leipzig gradually weakened their XI while Núñez was on (especially after his second goal), but Liverpool also sent on a few teenagers. Those teenagers happened to play lovely football, and again, that bodes well.

Harvey Elliott remains a gem, Fabio Carvalho is like a faster, harder-pressing young Philippe Coutinho, and Stefan Bajcetic has looked a thoroughbred to me in the youth team these past 18 months, but at 17 I didn’t expect him to be making waves yet in the senior side, even if he’s a fairly strong and decent-sized kid; it’s almost always a position for stronger, older players, but he is such a good all-round player that he could genuinely be Fabinho’s heir apparent (albeit he is still clearly a kid, who hasn’t quite filled out yet). All three kids contributed to Núñez’s goals, with Carvalho and Elliott assisting, and Bajcetic’s clever high-pressing a key part of the hat-trick goal.

The leaps and bounds made by Núñez in his short career are indicative of a player hungry to learn, who works hard and takes his job seriously. That kind of attitude means further growth is likely, especially when moving to a better team. He moves, he takes a little time to settle, then he explodes.

He has to handle the pressure of the club’s history and the transfer fee, but he seems to have the right mentality. As such, a barren preseason would only ramp up the pressure piled on by dickheads, so to score four in one half will surely put him more at ease; even if there’s nothing quite like scoring your first proper goal, as Peter Crouch found, a whopping 24 hours into his pitch-time as a Liverpool player, in his 19th game.

Crouch’s second arrived mere minutes later (albeit the first was then changed to an own goal), and the long goalless streak was not indicative of a player who, while never prolific (his aim was to link aerially and on the deck), scored at a healthy rate of better than one every three games thereafter (and closer to one-in-two given that his 42 goals came in just 93 starts, with 40 from 77 after those first two goals, against Wigan in December 2005. He left to start more regularly, which was a shame.)

Go back just under a decade and another new Liverpool striker scored freely in preseason, then became a flop. But Iago Aspas, who struggled to adapt to life in England and wasn’t selected much in 2013/14 because of the undroppable nature of Luis Suárez and Daniel Sturridge (and perhaps Brendan Rodgers not actually wanting him), has subsequently scored 120+ in La Liga for unfashionable Celta Vigo, as well at a one-in-three rate for Spain; suggesting that, along with his leadership skills and work-rate, that he was a terrific player for whom the timing wasn’t right.

Two decades ago, El Hadji-Diouf started with two early goals, but his attitude stank, and he quickly tanked. Three decades ago, Nigel Clough started with two early goals, but he wasn’t what Liverpool needed. Fast starts don’t mean too much; the late Besian Idrizaj, then a teenager, scored a preseason hat-trick by the 27th minute in 2007, but it was against lowly Wrexham.

That same preseason, new buy Fernando Torres scored only one goal, against Shanghai Shenhua, and missed a penalty against Portsmouth.

Torres scored just three league goals for the Reds by the start of October, but kicked up a gear after a hat-trick against Reading in the League Cup. Even then, he still had only six league goals as of a few days before Christmas (and 12 in all competitions, with three of them in the Champions League). Having missed a preseason penalty against Portsmouth, he scored two against them on December 22nd, to hit top gear. After that brace, in the second half of the season he tripled his tallies, to end the season with 24 in the league, and 33 in all competitions.

Torres hit top gear aged 22/23, and prior to the age of 22, Alan Shearer was not very prolific at all, while Thierry Henry was a goal-shy winger at the same stage. Torres was an icon at Atlético (but 13 was his top non-penalty league tally), and Henry was a World Cup winner, but like Shearer, both only became elite world-class players around the age of 22. It has thus always struck me as the coming-of-age stage for a certain type of striker.

Players mature and thrive at different rates, but they were three of the very best, and all of a similar physique: 6’0″-6’2″, and expected to do all kinds of things as a central striker beyond score goals.

Small young sprinters used to blossom earlier, but the all-round centre-forwards often seem to come of age at 22/23. And even wide players of a similar stature can follow the same path.

Even Cristiano Ronaldo, a skinny clever winger as a teen, only hit double figures in the league for the first time in 2006/07, when aged 21-22, and in the process doubled his previous best. A year later he hit 31 in the league. Gareth Bale, not a centre-forward but another with the pace and 6’1″ physique, exploded in 2012/13, from a career best of nine league goals aged 22, to 21 when aged 23 – not too dissimilar to Ronaldo, whom he soon joined at Real Madrid.

Aged 22, Robert Lewandowski, in his first season in a big league, scored just nine goals in his debut campaign with Jürgen Klopp’s Borussia Dortmund, in 43 games. Not exactly a world-beater on that evidence. Yet aged 23, he scored 30, and since then was never below 25, and reached as high as 55, before moving to Barcelona this summer, aged 33. He’s another who is of a similar physique to Núñez, and plays a vaguely similar way.

Núñez reminds me most of Torres. The later had slightly better control, but was maybe not as good in the air. If Núñez gets to be 80% as good as peak Torres, that’s a win; 70% as good as peak Lewandowski would also be a win.

A lot has been made of Sadio Mané leaving, but even he made a massive impact back in 2016/17 with just 13 goals; a tally he’d go on to at least double on a couple of occasions. By contrast, Mo Salah – in his mid-20s when things kicked into gear for him – started with 44 goals in his debut season, and hasn’t got within a dozen of that since.

But who cares? His least prolific season saw the Reds win the league, and Núñez’s job is not to outscore Salah or anyone else: it’s to help Liverpool win games. Do that enough and you win the major trophies.

Goals or no goals, Núñez’s pace, work-rate and height will cause opposition defences problems, and by being a nuisance he will open up space for Salah, Luis Díaz, Diogo Jota and the not-to-be-written-off Roberto Firmino; just as the close marking they will require will free up space for Núñez.

Firmino played all 38 games when the Reds won the title, yet only scored at a one-in-four rate. But again, who cares, as Liverpool won a crazy 32 of those games. The team was peaking in 2019/20, but none of the strikers had their most prolific season. The team was as beautifully balanced as it could get.

If a striker just stood there, like some did in the old days (or Ronaldo now, aged 37), to do nothing other than poach, then yes, you’d judge him on his goals’ record. But that’s an outdated notion, given how few now do that, beyond someone too famous to be told otherwise.

A striker who creates the space for the team to score four goals is better than one who does nothing but bag one for himself. It’s even worse if he’s so famous and such an overbearing personality that he has to be constantly fed chances, only for the team to score markedly fewer goals, and win markedly fewer points.

Núñez will of course be judged on his goals by outsiders, but his pace, zest and relative youthfulness can force defences back, and his height allows him to challenge for headers in the box in a way that Liverpool haven’t had for years (i.e. heading at goal when challenging a big defender, not just when finding space to get on the end of what often has to be a perfect cross, which was all Mané and Jota could rely on). He can cause chaos, and goals for the team can flow from that.

While more technically adroit than Núñez, peak Firmino was a player you had to watch (and watch closely), rather than fixate on goals’ columns. If you spoke only about Firmino in terms of his goal output it was like admitting that you don’t really understand football; akin to asking “who is Max Martin?” when it comes to writing hit singles, because you’ve never heard of him.

Firmino has never been express-rapid, but a lot of his best work was a form of magic, invisible to the metric-counters: to vacate the box at just the right moment; to dummy the ball to allow Salah or Mané in on goal; to make a decoy run, and disrupt; to drag a defender or two into no-man’s land.

Núñez is faster, taller, and seems to be a better finisher than Firmino based on the last 18 months of improvement, but his initial gift could be about creating more space for Salah, or pulling into Diaz’s zone so that Diaz can switch inside.

It could be all the goals Klopp loves from counterpressing, by harrying the opposition into mistakes: the corners won by chasing a lost cause that Núñez might not be the one to directly convert, but Virgil van Dijk, Ibrahima Konaté and Joel Matip might. It could be from winning headers from long clearances, that no Liverpool striker will have done much in the past half-dozen years, and turning high, overhit crosses that others cannot reach into chances via knock-downs.

Firmino – always a fit professional – could be reborn, with a possible chance to start the season in the XI as Núñez continues to settle, and then, at worst, the Brazilian could be a key man to bring on as one of five subs, given that he can be a defensive forward or an attacking midfielder or fourth striker on the pitch, depending on the game state (and able to switch between the two roles, to balance the needs of the team). While not an impact sub per se, Firmino is the one who can change a game in the greatest number of ways.

Encouragingly, both Firmino and Salah look sharp in preseason, and won’t even be at peak fitness yet. Firmino has no goals, but again, you don’t judge him on goals. (If he scored zero in a season that could be a problem, but again, it’s about winning 30+ league games and going deep in Europe, and that happens with him on the pitch, it’s a sign of success.)

One area where Núñez will have less scope to score 5-8 further goals – the kind that can skew perceptions to a reasonable degree – is penalties, unless Salah is off the field, as he won’t be as beautifully generous during the season (unless Núñez is really under pressure and needs a goal, and the game is already as good as won). Fabinho is possibly the club’s best penalty taker, but Núñez is like Salah in being excellent too. As such, Núñez will probably now be the 2nd-taker, after Salah.

On Núñez, I like how, from all situations, he aims for the corners – a proper finisher’s approach. He’s not a hit-and-hope merchant who just blasts centrally and hopes to blitz the keeper. Three of his four goals against RBL were into the corners, and the fourth was intended to be, but the keeper helped it on its way.

The second was interesting as he gave himself the cut-across angle by taking the ball more to his right, to swing it back across his body. This is classic centre-forward play – the touch slightly away from goal, in order to whip it back with a swivel.

The third was more like classic Ian Rush, sliding in to divert a cross not straight ahead (and at the keeper), but to try and put a 45º angle on it, so as to again aim for the corner. There’s risk in this, in that it can easily be diverted wide, but it’s almost like Joe Root playing a shot to third man, just cutely enough to avoid the slips.

A low-quality (or maybe low-confidence) striker would have just slid in and tried to bundle the ball “through” the keeper, but Núñez went for the “finisher’s finish”. However, in order to open his Liverpool account from the spot, he went for power and some placement, rather than some power and full placement: a safer option, when the pressure is felt. It wasn’t quite fully in the corner, but it was a full-blooded shot.

I had previously noticed with his penalties for Benfica, when he was obviously relaxed and the main man in the team, that most almost skimmed the inside of the post, such was the placement. He did a wrong-footing shuffle, then arrowed them low and firm, side-footed, right into the bottom corner.

So for all his pace and power, I see a finesse to his finishing, even if his touch is not Firminoesque in its silkiness, and even if he doesn’t have Mané’s wonderful skill. (Then again, Mané never scored four in a game, let alone a half of football.)

These are all good signs, even if the pressure won’t abate on the new no.27 until he scores in proper games, and it will reappear during any droughts. He has a hefty price tag to justify, but he’s capable of doing so, even with dickheads making life harder, in the age of laughing at people much more talented.

Even if he scores just 10-15 goals, if Liverpool win major honours, then Núñez will be a success.

 

Sunday, May 29, 2022

The Cynic Never Fails, Never Cries, As He Never Loves, Never Tries by Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2022/05/the-cynic-never-fails-never-cries-as-he-never-loves-never-tries/

In By Paul TomkinsFree

 

You may have heard the following maxims before. Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. Arriving is not the best part of a fantastic journey. The chase is better than the kill. And so on. 

Better to have reached finals and been within touching distance of the title than to, I don’t know, get knocked out early or finish 16th. Spare me your giggling gifs, as really, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones (and if you were battling relegation or mired in mediocrity, you probably won’t hit anything anyway.)

Better to have a chance of the title in the second half of the final game of the season than to not even be on the ride; to sneer and say that only idiots subject themselves to such high drama and tension. Better to be in the Champions League final than to watch it hoping a rival loses. 

The week leading up to a final is something special, to savour. Beaten finalist hurts, but it’s better than beaten semi-finalist, beaten quarter-finalist. Better than not-even-qualified. 

I sat down before the game today to write this piece, in case the worst happened. (It did, and I feel dejected – but it won’t last.)

Obviously I didn’t expect Liverpool to dominate to such an incredible degree, and to lose to a Real Madrid side who rode their luck and whose best player, by far, was their keeper. The save from Mo Salah in the second half was ridiculous. That’s football, that’s life. The policing and organisation was a disgrace, but those who were there will talk more about that.

Anyway, you may not want to read this now (or at all), and prefer to retreat to a darkened cave. But a final defeat should not obscure how amazing this team is, and how superb this season has been; especially a defeat so unmerited. I wanted to create something that would transcend the post-match fog. Sometimes sport is unfair, and that’s all part of the package. 

I’ve only been to two Champions League finals – Istanbul and Athens – and while the former remains one of the best two days of my life, the latter was great fun too, with a group of about ten Reds, beautiful weather, drinking and eating al fresco, and full of hope and anticipation in the Greek sunshine. Liverpool played well – actually outplaying Carlo Ancelotti’s AC Milan (after only outplaying them for six minutes in 2005) when losing 2-1 – but again, such is football. 

Another cliché: you need to buy a ticket to win the lottery. This season, Liverpool bought a shit-load of lottery tickets for the fans. Basically it’s been a lottery-ticket-tastic campaign. It’s be a lottery ticket every game. No single game has been meaningless, beyond when the “group of death” was won early on the way to winning all six games, and even that set a record for an English club. 

This team won 49 games this season (including shootouts). FORTY-NINE! Most clubs didn’t even play 49 games this season. 

Surprisingly (to me) within hours of Manchester City winning the Premier League by a single point, I felt only pride at the Reds’ achievements, and I didn’t need to subject myself to what some gobby monobrowed ex-frontman had to say. I didn’t need to watch them – good, bad and indifferent City fans – enjoy themselves, but of course, enjoy themselves they did (albeit it’s just weird when all they do – the not-so-good ones – is focus on the defeated fans, but that’s the ‘banter loop of hell’ for you).

It struck me that, actually, I didn’t feel too bad – it didn’t hurt as much as expected, perhaps because it was only ever an outside chance on the final day.

And it struck me that it was 90 of the maddest minutes of football I could recall, in terms of a rollercoaster of emotions. And of course, that’s why people pay lots of money to ride rollercoasters: they’re fun, even if you hate the fucking things and want to get off ASAP; afterwards, the thrill remains. In those moments, life feels real.

Losing is part of life. 

My favourite quote for life is from the Stoic philosopher Seneca: 

We suffer more in imagination than in reality 

With a few exceptions (being mangled alive in some horrific machining accident, having Roy Hodgson as your manager), it rings true.

Losing hurts, but rarely as badly as you expect, at least once the initial sting wears off. It hurts like hell but then, in contrast to a loved one dying or a long-term relationship ending (or even a beloved pet needing to be put to sleep), it passes quickly. 

There’s always another season, another game, another win, just around the corner. Other big chances to win trophies, too, if you’re lucky. 

(I’m feeling pretty raw as I reread this and get ready to publish it, but when the opposition keeper is the man of the match, it’s hard to be too crucial about anything.)

Of course, you can make it worse if you’ve been a dick all season on social media and people are now coming back to haunt you; or, if just unlucky, you run into the cockwombles, online and in the streets or pubs, from other clubs, whose fans go out looking for innocent Reds to abuse and mock. 

For all those who mock Liverpool losing, this is far better than the chloroformic pall of dead seasons, over by January, sleepwalking until May when some weirdos will then focus on winning the transfer window (if they haven’t since the January one slammed shut). 

Few seasons are this exciting, this much fun. Few will be as memorable. 

Great teams are often remembered more than who won what when. 

Holland 1974, 1978. Hungary 1954. Brazil 1982. Dortmund 2013, even, and Spurs 2019 – certainly more memorable than the Juande Ramos-won trophy of 2008. England in 1990, which, with Gazza’s tears in the Italian summer, has been mythologised. (I can’t say I’ll remember much about recent England performances as I stopped watching years ago.) 

The best Liverpool teams of since I first went to a game in 1990 are the 1995/96 team, who won nothing the season after the 1994/95 team won a cup – but Roy Evans’ team was so exciting a year later; Gérard Houllier’s 2001/02 team was probably better balanced than the treble-winning team of 2000/01. The 2008/09 team was better than either of Rafa Benítez’s sides that reached the Champions League final. The chaotic brilliance of 2013/14, with Luis Suárez settled and unstoppable, was better than the cup-winning team of 2012, albeit it almost completed a memorable cup double. 

Yet it would be wrong to define this team by its narrow failures, or to call it one of the best teams to never win certain things.

Indeed, this is a Liverpool team (with just a few altered faces) who have won the Champions League, the Premier League, the FA Cup, the League Cup, the World Club championship and the European Super Cup. It’s greatness is secured in those successes and moreover, the football played, the points tallies racked up in the league, the runs to major finals, the beautiful ride, the joyous journey. It all goes into the mix. 

If you’re going to laugh, then did your team beat the Italian champions of last season and the Italian champions of this season? The Spanish champions of last season? Chelsea in two cup finals? Your local rivals 6-1 on aggregate and your historical rivals 9-0 on aggregate? 

Did your team post 92 points whilst reaching a Champions League final, having got 97 in 2019 (when I first worked it out), which at the time made them the only team in England (and Europe’s top five leagues, I’ve since been told) to get over 90 points when reaching the European Cup final? No other team has done that, and now Liverpool have done it twice, whilst rising to be the #1 ranked team on the reliable Club Elo Index. 

And did your team achieve whatever it achieved without petrodollar doping, or dodgy inflated financial deals?

If you love your club and enjoyed your team’s season, great. That’s your prerogative. If escaping relegation was better to you than being in the Champions League final, that’s your call (you just clearly wouldn’t know how the latter felt). 

But don’t pity Liverpool fans. We’ve had an absolute blast, believe me. (Apart from some of the very-online ones who think that Liverpool would have won the quadruple if only more of this or that had been done.)

We got to watch Thiago, Virgil van Dijk, Mo Salah, Sadio Mané, Luis Díaz, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Diogo Jota, Fabinho, Bobby Firmino, Joël Matip and Naby Keïta: players in their positions with unique skills, wide-ranging brilliance and ongoing potential. We got to watch Alisson make incredible saves (as well as score the goal that put the club into the Champions League this season to start with). 

We got to watch Jordan Henderson, Andy Robertson, Ibrahima Konaté, James Milner, Kostas Tsimikas, Joe Gomez, Divock Origi, Harvey Elliott, Curtis Jones, Takumi Minamino, Caoimhín Kelleher and others who, though still talented, drove on game after game, in many cases when coming in from the cold, to fill in, before time back on the bench. Some are not as gifted as the first group of players, but also, this group contains the two main leaders, as well as talented backups and youngsters on the rise. We got to see Tsimikas celebrate goals from the bench as if he’d been on the Kop for 40 years.

(Plus, how good was Konaté tonight? So unlucky to be on the losing side.)

If you enjoyed your team’s players more, that’s great – that’s what the game’s there for. But we can find no one to fault in this squad, lest we be looking to piss and moan. (No team is perfect; no player is perfect. But you rarely get this lucky. I mean, how many clubs’ 7th-choice striker got 10 goals this season?)

American sports analyst, author, podcaster, and sports writer Bill Simmons,  writing a few years ago, summed up how I felt this week, when the joys of success were still a possibility:

“Then I remembered something. Sports is a metaphor for life. Everything is black and white on the surface. You win, you lose, you laugh, you cry, you cheer, you boo, and most of all, you care.

“Lurking underneath that surface, that’s where all the good stuff is — the memories, the connections, the love, the fans, the layers that make sports what they are.

“It’s not about watching your team win the Cup as much as that moment when you wake up thinking, ‘In 12 hours, I might watch my team win the Cup’. It’s about sitting in the same chair for Game 5 because that chair worked for you in Game 3 and Game 4, and somehow, this has to mean something.

“It’s about leaning out of a window to yell at people wearing the same jersey as you, and it’s about noticing an airport security guy staring at your Celtics jersey and knowing he’ll say, ‘You think they win tonight?’ before he does.”

And hell, he’s not even writing about football.

Most of us on this site are old enough to have lived throughout the entire fallow period that began in 1990, albeit even then, there were highs along the way, as discussed, up until the 2018 overdrive.  

(While we welcome young subscribers, the site is not exactly full of TikTok videos, bantz and skilz. For instance, we still use esses at the end of words.) 

Some on this site started watching Liverpool in the early Bill Shankly years, in the second tier, a club drifting when the Scot arrived. A handful of our subscribers even predate Shanks, albeit like WWII veterans, that generation cannot go on forever.

We’re not always right in what we say, but there’s wisdom here, in this crowd. We know an amazing team when we see it. Maybe some young fans or new fans are too unaware of the dark days; indeed, dark decades. 

On here, we know that the cynic never loves. He never allows himself to. He – and his ilk – takes to his basement, and tells the world that all women are evil, and that the true way to be a man is to post mean memes online. (Not that all incels are equally sad and troubling, and being alone and feeling unlovable is not a nice feeling – albeit not one the world needs projecting outward in bitter ways; just as online trolls, in general, reveal their own sense of “lack”, and as such, are best ignored.)

The cynic never falls off the bike, as the cynic never rides the bike. He’ll never get back on the horse, as he wasn’t even on the horse in the first place. 

As Theodore Roosevelt said more than a century ago:  

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Savour it, friends, as this is a rare frequency of forays to this final. It happened once before for Liverpool, 1977-1985. Then there were the two finals, 2005-2007, before more drought. 

Now it’s three in five seasons, 2018, 2019 and 2022 (with Covid not helping to keep that streak even hotter.) If a generation is 20 years, then this isn’t even a generational richness; it skipped a generation. And that previous time was the first in the club’s history, albeit beginning one full generation (22 years) after the European Cup/Champions League became a thing.

Some clubs are lucky if they make it to one Champions League final, even with spending that’s literally off the charts (PSG, Manchester City). They stack the deck, and they still can’t do it. If their fans are happy, then all power to them. But they have no right to laugh at us; nor should we fear such laughter. They don’t get to be us. 

For now, this sucks. It stings. We feel bruised. 

Yet it will pass, sooner than expected. Life will move on, and football will begin again, because the football never ends. 

Jürgen Klopp and his team will get back on their horses, as these are winners – winners of more games this season than in any in the club’s history, winners of every trophy going since 2019 – who will sometimes stumble, but will remount and, starting at dawn, ride, ride again. 

Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Finest of Teams – Klopp’s Liverpool – Lose Title By Finest Of Margins by Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2022/05/finest-of-teams-klopps-liverpool-lose-title-by-finest-of-margins/

In By Paul TomkinsFree

 

Club Elo rankings going into the final Premier League game today:

1 Liverpool 2,043

2 Man City 2,023

With the results meaning that Liverpool will still be ranked the best team in Europe (having beaten a higher-ranked side than Aston Villa today), and therefore the world. 

Small consolation, of course, but vital context. Congratulations to those at City who merit it.

So, 358 points for Man City since the start of 2018, 357 for Liverpool, on a much lesser budget, with three Champions League finals thrown in (and the chance to win a second). No plastic flags, no tacky flamethrowers, no staged atmosphere, no sportswashing. 

In the week, Barney Ronay of the Guardian, summed up a more-or-less invisible gap between the sides: 

“Let’s face it, despite our best attempts to find clear air between them, these are two remarkably well-matched modern juggernauts. Both managers have claimed to be underdogs in recent weeks: Pep Guardiola because everyone supports Liverpool (narrator: everyone doesn’t support Liverpool); Klopp because of having to play so many games in all these damn tournaments we keep winning.” 

For City to have such a bigger wage bill and much costlier squad cost (even more so when adjusted for football inflation), and to reach only a third of the Champions League finals, is a bit of a damning indictment of City, but only when compared to Liverpool. 

Compared to everyone else, City are obviously exceptional; but their spending a ton of money cleverly, and being managed by a world-class coach, is difficult to overcome, even if other clubs, like Manchester United (and more recently, Everton), spend a ton of money stupidly. 

In terms of finances, Liverpool are a super-middleweight and City are a bona fide heavyweight. Pep Guardiola is an absolutely elite manager, and he has a huge war-chest. It’s testament to Jürgen Klopp and the backroom staff at Liverpool that the gap is so minimal (albeit the two domestic cups won this season were also a case of fine margins; some you win, some you lose). 

As TTT stalwart Andrew Beasley wrote in the Liverpool Echo this week, working with the inflation model I created with Graeme Riley in 2010, “It says everything for the Reds’ achievement in running the Premier League title  race so close, no matter what happens on Sunday, that Manchester City have  only once fielded a team which cost less than Liverpool’s most expensive XI.”

City had no games cancelled for Covid, and their injury crises seemed to be a couple of defenders “out for the season” a couple of weeks ago, who were then fit again anyway. As luck would have it, they faced an Aston Villa side likely to tire late on, having played on Thursday. That’s life. 

Liverpool’s fortunes turned on a nightmare three winter games with Covid absentees that perhaps cost the title (particularly away at Spurs, allied to the truly horrific officiating in that game). Then there was that lack of a penalty that Everton got an apology for, but where a late spot-kick could have seen City drop two points (although I still think Everton would have found a way to miss it, but in general, 80% are scored). It remains a scarcely believable decision that took the mounting pressure off City. I mean, it only hit Rodri’s lower arm. 

(And as much as I rate Michael Oliver, he has just again made a mockery of time-added-on, as do most refs. Time-wasting is the way to go, then; even if City were likely to just retain possession anyway. Actual time-accountancy should be paramount, not just making it up, and then blowing early. But hey ho.)

Rodri’s handball didn’t matter in the relegation race in the end, but it did in the title race (even if we can’t say all results would then have followed as identically as they did, with cause and effect at play, but you can say that a last-minute penalty is a game-changing event, if converted). Plus, the early red card West Ham should have had in the Reds’ first defeat of the season proved another costly mistake by what is often the same group of officials.

Then there’s Liverpool not being able to run up a cricket score against Brighton as the keeper wasn’t sent off for about as blatant a red card as you can expect to see, when he leapt into the air to hit Luis Díaz in the face with (just) his hand and knee. That surely would have helped the Reds’ goal difference, albeit it wasn’t an issue by the 38th game, but might have heaped a bit more pressure on City at the time.  

Unlike one or two recent campaigns, it didn’t feel like a season of constant officiating blunders against Liverpool, but there were some big ones that went against the team at key moments in games and at pivotal points of the season. All that said, for once Liverpool rank near the top for penalties won, so that’s progress of sorts. 

But even so, Liverpool will yet again (as with every single season under Klopp, and as was the case under Rafa Benítez) rank lower on penalties won than on league position (when for Brendan Rodgers it was always the opposite: ranked higher in penalties won than league position). 

Despite putting up attacking numbers that are off the charts, Liverpool have still won fewer penalties than Man City and Chelsea, and the same as Crystal Palace. At least Liverpool are not ranking mid-table for penalties won, as has often been the case in recent years; ranking 3rd is progress, but still not great when finishing 2nd. 

Liverpool also had three first-team players go to AFCON right after the three-game “slump” (two draws and a defeat in a mad run of three away games: Spurs, Leicester, Chelsea), two of them key players. This was always likely to be the case. Again, that’s unfortunate, but also part of the drawback of signing African players; yet signing Mo Salah and Sadio Mané, both of whom scored again today, has been a massive success overall.

While the Reds excelled without them, Salah returned jaded (or lacking confidence), after several periods of extra-time in the African heat. Jürgen Klopp’s men then also played every possible cup game this season (one to go), to make for a monumental season. The possibility of the quadruple, while always unlikely, was taken 21 days further than any English team had previously managed. That is a staggering achievement (albeit not all achievements are measured in silver). But maybe it also added to the mental burden; the talk of quadruples tiresome and tiring. 

Thankfully Luis Díaz made a startling impact upon his arrival at the start of February, as the Reds again showed the value of adding quality rather than quantity (so as to make it easier to integrate). What a joy he’s been. Ibrahima Konaté, still unbeaten, took time to adapt during a promising start, but by the run-in looked increasingly assured; at least until today, when some nerves got to the young Frenchman – albeit he recovered well, and is surely the best young centre-back in the world right now (and 22 is still pretty young for the role).

The early season defending was an issue, but one that was a hangover from the injuries of last season. As such, Konaté wasn’t the solution, as he had only just arrived – and needed time to settle.

When I recently analysed certain defensive metrics for Virgil van Dijk, he was relatively mediocre in the first 15-or-so games. Indeed, as the most consistent elite defender on these metrics since 2016 (every season his figures were almost identical), his figures were suddenly those of a merely average stopper, way below his normal numbers.

Since game 15, based on the metrics I was combining, he’s been the best in the Premier League. Liverpool had enough to get past Wolves today without him (as they did in midweek), but a sharper van Dijk earlier in the season would have helped.

And while last season was not just about van Dijk’s injury, given that Liverpool were down to their 7th and 8th choice centre-backs (and were still top two months after his injury, before the others also got crocked), obviously an elite-form van Dijk remains the best on the planet. 

Indeed, even at 30, there are signs that he’s every bit as good as his best at 27, with his form in the months of 2022 generally his best in England on the metrics I covered. The recovery pace was clearly back in 2022, when it wasn’t necessarily present in the autumn of 2021, especially after – crucially – missing the early part of preseason. He was playing catch-up early in the campaign, and the Reds maybe shipped a few too many goals at that point.

(More about van Dijk’s resurgence, amongst many other things, in the new Liverpool FC book I’m writing – which I started in January, when the season looked to be falling apart, the Reds well adrift in the league to the point where I called it City’s title. The research for the book I was supposed to be writing has been collated for a few years, yet the more interesting this season got, the more focus had to go on that. When the book is released and the final emphasis is obviously dependent on what happens in Paris, but it should prove interesting either way. TTT subscribers can still preorder the special edition of the book.)

Thinking back, Liverpool started the season with great attacking gusto but not quite the right balance, with a new attacking emphasis in midfield (more of a 1-2 midfield, instead of a 2-1), and the defenders taking time to get up to their old speeds after injury. It took a bit of getting used to. The football felt more gung-ho than it had at any point since Klopp’s early days: great fun, but a slightly vulnerable centre. 

Indeed, that was how today’s game was, until – yet again – that weird atmosphere descended when the entire stadium started celebrating and the Reds, playing Wolves as they had in 2019 when it also happened, suddenly went from all-out attack to nervous (that day was the weirdest I’ve ever experienced Anfield). It must be very odd for the players, as they usually garner crowd reactions from their own play. Almost instantly it lifted Wolves, and confused Liverpool, who seemed to think “do we still attack?” having just been having about 15 attacks per minute. 

At no point did the Reds go 2-1 up while City were behind or level, and so, it was different to 2019 in that sense; but then, as now, I would always expect a top team, when going behind early at home in a title-decider, to come back, and the away team to eventually wilt. 

I expected it of City today at 1-0, although at 2-0 it felt like City (as at West Ham) were then more likely to draw than win. Of course, Wolves did the same: early goal, then lost 3-1 at Anfield. If Wolves had gone 2-0 up early enough today, I feel that Liverpool would have likely won 3-2.

(It’s hard in these circumstances, but it feels like the later goals are scored against the favourite, the better. Scoring too early allows pressure to build as the underdog sits back, and the pace of modern football can make for relentless attacking.)

Back in the autumn, Harvey Elliott was excelling until he got his ankle and leg broken; the balance on the right side rather beautiful up to that point, with Mo Salah and Trent Alexander-Arnold benefiting from the young midfielder’s vision and tenacity, playing in glorious triangles, and the Londoner bringing fresh energy to the team. 

Thiago Alcântara then missed all of October (and was not fit enough to start in November in the defeat at West Ham), and then was out again from mid-December through to February, and thus the mini Christmas/New Year slump. 

In some ways it perhaps left him fresher for the run-in, but his control was missed in midfield. Having to play away at a hungry and refreshed Spurs without van Dijk, Jordan Henderson, Thiago and Fabinho, amongst others – and a teenage Tyler Morton anchoring the midfield – meant that, actually, a point was a good result; but City weren’t having to play teenage rookies in their toughest away games. (Cole Palmer started one game, at home to Everton.)

And now Thiago is injured again, six days ahead of the Champions League final, with Spain giving their team a two extra days to recover.

The miracle, having been 14 points behind and still facing AFCON absentees and injuries, was to get the gap to just one point going into the final game, whilst winning both domestic cups and reaching the yet-to-be-played Champions League final. Seriously, City nearly blew it. Liverpool have been the better team in 2022, across four competitions. 

City got lucky, blowing that lead and not blowing more thanks to the decision at Everton, but clearly they’ve made plenty of their own luck by being such a good team (even if the way it is funded is nauseating). 

For them, the situations where they choke tend to be in Europe, at key moments. Even then, the madness of fine margins: had Jack Grealish not been denied twice in incredible circumstances in the last minute when 1-0 up (and 3-1 up on aggregate), they’d have been facing Liverpool in the final, instead of it being Real Madrid. City then threw away two quick goals, then a third; just as they did to Villa today.

You can argue that City are better than Liverpool because they won the league, but pound for pound, and spread across the Champions League as well as the Premier League, you’d have to say that Liverpool have been the better team since 2018. They have achieved more for the money spent, and played the more exciting football. (Not that City’s football is dull: I think it’s technically excellent, and can be exciting. They have an incredible squad, albeit you can’t separate that from the money it cost to assemble.)

Back in 2019, Liverpool became the first English club to reach a Champions League/European Cup final while racking up more than 90 points (38 games). This season they’ve just done it again, to become the second. It’s the third 90+ point finish in just four seasons. City fans can enjoy their success, but this also shows how amazing Liverpool are.

All this is why Liverpool are still ranked as the best team in the world right now (just ahead of City), and have been for a large chunk of 2022. City get to lift the title trophy, and that’s life; just as Kepa missing a penalty won Liverpool the League Cup.  

One final thought is that this Liverpool team is almost always at its most dangerous and devastating after disappointment. 

But with just six days until Paris – a nice enough turnaround time if there hadn’t already been so many games (and new injuries) – it may be hard to find the energy for one last push. 

Madrid, also with a squad costing much more than Liverpool’s, should not allowed to treat the game as plucky underdogs, with more time to prepare, too. 

But whatever Liverpool have left in the tank on Saturday, you’ll know they’ll give every last drop of it.