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Andy's Articles

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi guys, I've tried to write about Liverpool all my life so just wanted to post something I've written to see what reaction I get. So here goes! By the way, i'm truly sorry Admin guys, if I have in some ways cocked-up trying to post a thread again. Please, if I have, can you amend it for me or something - be much appreciated (Andy).


‘Plastered’
Burnley v Liverpool
31st of August, 2019.

I was not sure where we would see the game and then Deano text me to tell me that we would see it in Davie’s.

When I arrived Davie charmingly said, ‘You’re not welcome’ laughing, reminding me that when I had not been there last week, Liverpool had smashed Arsenal 3-1 and produced a great attacking performance.

I am always lucky enough to see Liverpool’s games with Dean and Davie – lads who also used to have Kop Season tickets and with whom I have shared memorable times with at Anfield. Always the same passion – always the same desire – for Liverpool to make our weekend with a win.

Feeling Davie’s walls – they were smooth as a pint of Worthington’s being poured and felt as flat as I do after another woman, I really like, finishes with me.

For a change, Davie’s three girls were actually not only all in the house together at the same time but lo and behold – all in one spot too. I took the rare opportunity of marching into the kitchen and cwtching the three of them all at once. They loved it, as they crowded around the cake mix bowl. As their laughter died down, I took my seat on Davie’s sofa and found out that United and Chelsea had drawn as I had deliberately avoided seeing any results prior to the 5.30 kick-off. ‘Yes’ I went – always happy when those two drop any points. I did not even bother asking about how City had got on – if they had drawn or lost, I think Dean & Davie would have let me known soon enough.

Burnley away. Dodgy; coming with a Sean Dyche bruising, government health warning. We had to win the battle first before we could play.

The all-blacks with the spotted light green – blue spots, did that though. The defence was immense. Centred around the rock that was UEFA’s newly crowned Player of the Year, Virgil Van Dyke. A man mountain who barked instructions to everyone – especially Adrian, who looked less shaky in goals, resplendent in an all bright green strip. On the left was Andy ‘Robbo’ Robertson and on the right, a snip at nothing – Trent Alexander-Arnold, a midfielder, converted to a full-back; he hardly spent much time defending but when he had to, he was not out-paced; as at last he seems to be back to some level to where he was last season. Joel Matip – an increasingly like Alan Hansen figure – as he glides the ball out of defence and puts a gangly foot in on an attacker – again, bought for nothing. At one point as a player clattered into him, I winced and wondered if he was going to be injured in the same way Joe Gomes had been in December. Due to this Matip had seized his chance – the rest is as they say is history. Matip has just improved every game.

The usual suspects in the middle – Jordan Henderson, Gini Wijnaldum – who rarely gets dropped and Fabinho. Fabinho – my word. He was just back to his beasty best in this game. He broke-up attacks time and again and never wasted the ball. The spine is alive and kicking (just get back Alisson to completely cement it).

Up front was Salah-Firmino-Mane. Is there a better, more-deadlier front three in Europe, never mind the League?

Liverpool were razor sharp. Incisive. Cutting through the home side at every opportunity. The first goal though did not arrive until just after the half-hour mark. Jordan Henderson cut the ball back from just to the left edge of the Burnley area and the ball was crossed in first time by Trent Alexander-Arnold. As I watched it, I saw Salah on the right of Nick Pope’s post and was wondering if he would get his head on it. Then the ball just looped over the right of Nick Pope and he could do nothing about it as it fell into his bottom right hand corner! Tent had scored a superb goal he surely had not meant? We all celebrated with me going ‘Yes!!!’ as loudly and echoingly than normal in the paper-less walls of Davie’s room.

The break-through. So crucial. Pope had already saved them but could only look helplessly as the ball had sailed over him. We all thought it was Trent’s goal. It was not though. It had taken a deflection off the right shoulder of Chris Wood and it had gone down as an ‘oggy’. When Jurgen Klopp, our manager was informed of this later he looked gutted for Trent.

Burnley tried to bruise their way back into the game. ‘They play to their strength’s’ Davie pointed-out, just no messing around and get the ball in the box. Time, time and time again Virgil van Dyke headed the ball away. He is a man-mountain. A colossus to compare with our legendary 1960’s skipper, Ron Yeats. That’s how highly I rate him. Matip too and Fabinho were no slouch’s either. If they were ack-ack guns, they would have shot a squadron of German bombers out of the sky.

Quick, quick, lighting swift thinking and rapier counters. All the time moving slickly through the gears and then Mane had found the net with another low finish and it was 2-0 in the blink of an eye. Superb. Mane, all pace and power and guile and an eye for the precision finish as the ball nestled in the bottom right-hand corner of Pope’s goal. He has scored a few so far this season and I just haven’t been keeping track but you can bet your bottom dollar – Mane has.

Two-nil at the break. More than content with that. Last season we were 1-0 down and had come back to win 3-1. Klopp’s ‘Mentality Monster’s’ showing their fighting qualities – just like they were doing again. They had to.

More tea and more Desperado’s and Dark Fruits Cider for the boys. I’d had more than enough last weekend thank you to last me for a month! Good time though but I love tea and the sweets which we had corralled in a small bowl which Davie and Dean had nearly demolished by the whistle! Sorry guys, you can’t blame the girls as little Kelsey had offered us one of those cakes they had cooked-up as me and Dean reminisced about licking the spoon of the mixtures which went into the cakes our mums used to make – especially my mum with the Christmas cake mix – yum, yum, yum, I can taste it now and smell the cake baking for hours on end in the oven…

Liverpool were straight on it again after the break. It was surely a matter of time of when, not if they would score again. It felt good again to feel like this after those fallow years when we re-wound to four years back and me and Dean quickly shouted out, ‘Balotelli’ and ‘Lambert’ as we scratched our heads as to the third member of the less than successful trio up top. ‘Bor-en-nee’ Davie called from the kitchen. Yes, that was him, Fabio Borini. We collectively shook our heads again. Klopp had totally transformed us from also rans to challengers in only four years and also, lest we forget, to European Cup winners. Remarkable.

Salah was wriggling through. Just inside the area. He had a pass to Bobby to his right. That was the best option. Not the best one for him though as he saw his shot charged down. Bobby would have scored – id have put my house on it the form he is in. A gilt-edged opportunity to almost kill the game stone dead. Bobby just must have tutted and swatted the non-pass aside, possibly in a no-look manner, like scoring one of his tap-ins. ‘The thing is’, as I can hear my dad’s voice, if we contrived to concede and make it 1-2, then it would be a case of colly-wobbles again, just like against Southampton when we did our level best to throw away three points from a commanding position. Salah must surely have recalled that game – just like every other red. Small margins and all that…

Salah was through again within the blink of an eye. He is superb mind and is world class. This time he produced a bit of ball dragging back with his weaker right boot and, and, and with Mane screaming for a pass to the left and in acres of space, Salah elected to again try his luck, with the shot going nowhere near goal.

We were gutted but not as annoyed as Sadio Mane though. He was fuming though he did not show it then, apart from throwing his arms in the air in frustration. We, as fans, do not care who scores (yes – there is a cue there I know and that dreaded other team to be mentioned – Dean and Davie’s Fantasy Ones!!) just so long as Liverpool win – or, try and win, not taking anything at all for granted. Especially me as I am a pessimist not an optimist and even right-up until the final moments of a game I can’t rest. Salah had the chance to put the game almost to bed by passing to Mane and the fact is, he was too selfish not too. However, there have been the odd occasion, when Mane himself has not passed, so horses for courses.

Another attack fortunately quickly followed, spear-headed again by Salah. He ripped through Burnley’s rice paper defence, eating the yards-up like Kelsey devouring the handful of sweets she had grabbed from the bowl and this time, before there was any cause for discussion, Bobby Firmino arrived right on cue like an Exocet missile, and glided the ball into the bottom right hand corner of Nick Pope’s goal to make it 3-0.

It was an exquisite finish from our un-selfish Number Nine. He danced a slow dance on the edge of the area, giving it a few back-ward steps. So cool. Just a man on top of his game since the very first whistle of the season, as one of us said. We are just not the same without him. It was his 50th goal – a unique land-mark for a Brazilian who has played in the Premier League. ‘Si senior, give the ball to Bobby and he will score’ rang out again and again at Turf Moore as in Davie’s living room. He just epitomises everything Jurgen Klopp wants in a player. Brendan Rodgers may have signed him but Jurgen Klopp, as Dean said, has made him.

Is it no wonder, I just shouted a guttural ‘Yes’ which came right from the very depths of me?

Klopp rang the changes and Divock Origi came on and Shaqiri, plus Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain. This was not the story though which the press would no doubt pick-up on, or the fact that Liverpool were cantering towards three precious points or their record 13th League win on the bounce. What would grab the media’s attention was that Mane went off on one, pointing at Jordan Henderson, now sat on the bench – as that is what it looked like to me. We all looked at each other and wondered what the fuss was about and we had an inkling when Bobby put an arm around Mane’s shoulders, and had a word in his ear to try and calm him down.

The nub of it was, that Mane was still seething at Mo, from earlier on, when Mo had not passed to him when he was in a superb position – or that is what we figured. We did not like to see this. In one way it showed just how competitive they all are – the desire to score goals is a burning one. At the end of the day though it is a team game and that is all that matters – no matter how big a player Salah thinks he is.

Finally, we could rest. The lads played out the remainder of the game and very importantly, had not conceded and we were gutted that we had not scored more but if someone had offered us a scrappy 1-0 win before-hand we would have bitten their hands off for it.

As it was, we didn’t expect Burnley to get plastered.

Andy C Legs, 2051words
6/9/19.
 


Broomy

TIA's Redkopi
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Enjoyed reading that, well i for one am looking forward to these series of articles, the stories behind 'Andy, Deano and Davies' journey and escapades as ye cheer on the team with your vivid accounts on the road to number seven along with the Premier League title and your recollection of those historic nights and past players... Looking forward to the next instalment Andy!
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Enjoyed reading that, well i for one am looking forward to these series of articles, the stories behind 'Andy, Deano and Davies' journey and escapades as ye cheer on the team with your vivid accounts on the road to number seven along with the Premier League title and your recollection of those historic nights and past players... Looking forward to the next instalment Andy!
Crumbs, thank you ever so much Broomy. That means a great deal to me.
I have defo got a few more of these to post from this season and the past...
 

Commando

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A great read that Andy. I love reading posters’ accounts of their experiences watching our games. Keep them coming.
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
BLIND REF!

Hi all, I have posted the below non - Liverpool piece but it is about football - right at it's very lowest grass-roots level. Any feedback or any comments whatsoever would be just great! Andy.


Blind Ref!

New Inn v Newport Something

7th September, 2019.

The ref actually sent Niffy off and he was one of a knot of spectators! He was having a terrible game where the inclusion of two pairs of spec savers would not have helped.

At one point he also threatened to give the linesman, New Inn’s recently installed assistant, a yellow card as well. The ref had as much grip on the game as bumbling pm Boris Johnston has on his caving-in Conservative Party.

I had been threatening to go and watch this local side for a while - ever since Ian Rosser (the [email protected]@er as I sometimes call him!) had invited me out to go on the ale with them three years earlier, prior to Liverpool’s collapse in the Europa League Final.

It had been a fun, filled football beary night drinking with these twenty somethings who could in theory at least have been my sons.

So, it was well over-due and what better time than the International Break when I had not had to plan my weekend around Liverpool.

By the time I strolled past the Green Lawn - their drinking den, I could hear shouts; my heart quickened a pace, I may as well have been stuck outside Anfield and had missed kick off. The feeling and desire was the same - to see the game.

The Spurs kitted team were New Inn. They were playing up the bank as I saw it. Against a yellow shirted team from four miles away Newport.

The score was 1-1 and there had been two early strikes. I hoped there would be a winner.

Quickly I was lucky enough to be recognised and greeted by a couple of the spectators and un-used subs. I’d made the right choice - this or a crossword and coffee in Morrisons - there was no contest.

New inn we’re doing ok. Holding their own. My mate Rosser (a red) was playing a sweeper role if you like, in front of the back four which I saw had the diminutive, balding, Mikey in it, whom I’d shared a sing - song with the one - time Rosser had not been around. That had meant a lot.

I soon did not fail to notice the two tall lads in the opposite teams ranks. They were deadly with time on the ball which they often made. Quick as well. And skillfull by dragging the ball back. Though New Inn matched them for skill and touch at times.

The ref though was killing the game. He was a crab and no wonder ‘Niffy’ shouted out that he needed a motorised zimmer to keep up with play.

Half time came and it was muted ‘Why did New Inn go to the changing room and not stay out on the pitch?’ Plans were maybe being hatched or tactical switched perhaps - kloppesque style.

There were no more goals though but there should have been…

Newport missed a sitter of a header as their player put the ball inexplicably wide of New Inn’s keeper’s, right post, from in the area.

Then they blazed over when it was easier to score.

New Inn though should have taken all three points as the ever Duracell, young Ellis on the right wing, crossed a perfect, come and head me ball; the center forward failed to connect when the net should have bulged - it was head in the hands time.

There was still drama aplenty though as a yellow shirt dared to kick out at the man mountain at the back that was Copper. He got his marching orders as did Copper himself!. Just another ludicrous decision by an in-pet ref who was making them by the dozen. It would not have surprised me if he had banned sub Maz for drinking a can of lager, from the sidelines, as he prepared to battle bingo later on with his missus.

I found myself engrossed. Just instinctively shouting all the usuals like ‘Get in there’ as a fifty fifty was fuelled like Jordan Henderson battling with Fernandinho - as I may as well have been at Anfield, as my passion for the game came out - yet again proving I love it no matter what the circumstances, or how big or small the venue.

Rosser had come off and Bobby Certies came on for a cameo role - another older head at thirty plus, plus something. We all shook our heads just how he never got a card as he tackled with Roy Keane wild abandonment - still showing fighting zeal flowed through his veins and loins.

I was gutted when it suddenly ended. A tad lost to be honest. There is and never will be anything like watching live football. To quote ‘The Beautiful South’ Champions League’ ditty, ‘From Ninian, to Somerton, to Sebas, to Villa Park and Anfield, anywhere at all, even - New -- Inn’, as my near 40 year watching football odyssey could be written….

This time the ref had not been punched out like he had been a while ago - for all his faults; without his presence the game would never have been played - it was touching that Rosser patted him caringly on the back at the whistle – mind, it was surprising that he had seen where it was to have blown-it!

8/9/19
880
 



andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi, I have tried to write an account of yesterdays game - be just great if someone reads it!

‘Rusty Reds’
Liverpool v Newcastle United
14th of September, 2019.

Davie greeted me, wearing the home top. ‘Looks good on you mate’ I said, still contemplating getting it. ‘Not bad for thirty spondollies’ he said, as he opened the door to the living room.

The room had been painted, all light and dark grey walls and it looked very clean. ‘It’s not finished, yet’ Carly said. It had been just plastered walls before the annoying International break.

Now, thankfully, real football was back.

Settling down, after handing Davie some more sweets, to put into the pot, I tried to get the full team out of him and Deano as they fiddled with the electronics, after Deano had in-excusably not put his computer on charge! Boy, did Davie give him some stick for that – he’d had two weeks to make sure!!

‘Sorry Crouch’, Davie apologised to me, after I had asked what the team was. ‘The usual back five and the Ox, Fab and Gini, with Mane and Salah and Origi’. I thought it was a strong line-up but we are just not the same without ‘Bobby’ who was for a change, being rested.

Newcastle, ‘The Barcodes’ as someone had funnily posted on the TIA Forum, were the visitors – we were something ridiculous like 19-1 on to win. That image of Mirandinha celebrating in front of the Kop, in 1988, had flashed through my head at one point, when they had beaten us 2-1 in 1988-89. It proved that nothing was ever 100 per-cent solid gold certain (or was it just the pessimist was naturally coming out in me?).

The Geordies had not read the script. Much as I am struggling to type this, for some reason, trying to find my rhythm, Liverpool, despite having won the toss, failed to kick into theirs. Lethargic is not a word we have come to associate with Klopp’s Liverpool but we seemed to be, in the opening exchanges. ‘Rusty’ one of us said.

Me and Dean had looked at each other, with slight alarm. Mis-placed passes by Fabinho were as rare as an Australian batting collapse but the Brazilian was not at his Braziliant best and he wasn’t the only one.

Willems, all-of-a-sudden, got free on the edge of our box; Trent failed to push him to the right, as Dean later pointed out and I knew as soon as the ball left his boot, it was a goal. Adrian could do nothing about it as the ball flew past his left shoulder, into the top corner. A fabulous strike but one which should have been prevented. Still there are questions about Trent’s defending – as fabulous as he is at creating.

The old cliché came out that we had most of the game to come back; to come back and hopefully win. Win. Win. Win. Anything short of that and we would suddenly, be praying that whoever City were playing would do us a favour – as if that other team thought of us at all!

More grabbing of sweets which were rapidly going down, as quickly as I was sinking the tea, which I had read is supposed to help you improve your memory. ‘I’m ok then’ Dean said, ‘as I drink it all the time’.

Our minds cast us back to Spurs. Where we had known that ‘The Geordies’ had shut-up shop after taking a similar, precious one-nil lead and despite Spurs throwing the kitchen sink at them, they had won, 1-0.

The goal though finally woke the reds-up. They moved slickly through the gears, blowing the two- week old cobwebs off and advanced menacingly with Mane showing how to break them down with a little piece of skill to get behind them on our right. ‘That’s the answer!’ I shouted, as though being Klopp’s assistant on the side-lines, in the extended bench with the extra seats behind a frustrated and angry Jurgen.

Then again, we went down that side and again. Pulling Newcastle this way and that. Then Mane went on the other side and switched sometime with Origi. The red wave was finally crashing and we had all the possession but this time looked as though we could do something with it.

Origi had valiantly kept the ball in play on the touchline and had slid on the tram-line. It seemed innocuous but soon he had to leave. Onto the pitch came that man Bobby Firmino and he was serenaded even before he had touched the ball. Quickly he made his presence felt by uniquely, for a supposed center-forward, biting into challenges and winning midfield duels Souness would’ve been proud of.

The ball came into the box from our left and surely Matip was being pushed and man-handled to prevent him getting a head on it? Cries of ‘Penalty!’ echoed from the room, through the tv screen, to the disbelieving reds in the ground. A stone-waller.

Enraged by not getting the decision, Liverpool attacked with even more vim. Robertson was involved before Mane lashed the ball straight past Dubrovnik’s left shoulder, for it to smash straight into the top corner of the Kop net. A lightning strike, by a player on top of his game.
We all breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully history would not repeat itself as that image of Mirandinha began to fade somewhat.

Liverpool now were rattled. On a mission. On their game and somehow, they extended, exerted, their efforts – upped-their game, with even more attacking zeal as the Kop roared them on, trying to suck the ball into the net like days of yore (or even Barcelonaesque night times).

‘Come on!’ I shouted, with everything I had. Just desperate for them to score whilst they were so much on top.

Bobby played in Mane and it looked as though Dubravka would get his hands on the ball but Mane, I thought, tricked him and somehow dinked the ball over his advancing body, like a golfing chip shot, and had the easy task of firing the ball into the empty net from almost on the goal-line. It was a simple mistake by the keeper. What did we care though as we just celebrated almost in shock – at first not registering what had happened, but ‘we’d take it!’.

A 2-1 lead at the break to the rusty reds but now resurgent reds. That was more like it.

Jamie came and he laid out his folder of carpet samples. That was almost going to be the last touches. Light grey sofa with what I thought orange curtains. ‘Mustard, Crouch’ Carly corrected me and now she chose dark grey, thick carpet for that side of the room. We all three of us heard the figure Jamie said, three hundred plus notes and that included under-lay too, with Jamie fitting it. It was a case of who you know – not what you know as Jamie is married to Davie’s sister. I did not fail to notice that his two young lads had Cardiff City – nope, Newport County – nope but Liverpool tops on. ‘Good lads’ I thought – they are the next generation of reds.

Due to Jamie’s presence, the tea which Davie had brewed at the break had been left in the kitchen and when it was finally brought in and put on the side, Deano light-heartedly moaned at Davie that it was not scolding hot – as he likes it, because within seconds, like a blinding Bobby back-heel in the blink of an eye, Deano gulps it down!

Jamie was still there when the second-half kicked-off. The reds could not have heard the whistle as they again gifted Newcastle a perfect opportunity to draw level and un-do all the great work they had put-in to not only get level but take the lead and suffocate the visitors thereafter, as Atsu flashed a free header wide of Adrian’s left post.

Me and Dean both looked in disgust – quite what Klopp thought was anyone’s guess. It was a warning though that the game was still on a knife-edge.

Liverpool battered them. If it was a boxing match, by 70 minutes the ref would have called time. Every time Liverpool had the ball, they created a chance. It was getting frustrating and a tad worrying to watch as me and Dean said that all it took was one goal by Newcastle and we would be up against it - again.

Robertson missed an open-goal. Or, at least I thought he had but the replays showed that Dubravka had got a bit on his shot to deflect it for a corner. Bobby had put him through after more one-touch passage of play which would not have been out of place on one of those old- fashioned arcade football button machines. It was surreal. A joy to watch but tinged with agony and frustration that there was no end product.

Then Bobby ended the game in two seconds flat with a piece of skill which should be showed over and over again. Somehow, he dragged the ball back with the bottom of his right foot and flicked it across to his left to the hungry Salah who managed to evade two challenges in a blur, to smash the ball into the bottom left-hand corner of Dubravka’s net, to make it 3-1 to the reds.

Just prior to the goal, Carly said, as though on que, the Kop had begun to sing his, ‘James’ song and now, even little six-year-old Kelsey, was singing the same song as I recovered from roaring a ‘Yeahs!’, which could have been heard half-way down the road and hopefully, at least, in the one house next door, where a Manc lives! (on the right side is a red and sometimes he has not been able to bear to watch us but can tell how we are doing by the noise emanating from Davie’s house!!).

They kept on it. On their guard. Their foot on the gas but now playing in third gear as Van Dyke snuffed out any danger from a rare attack down our left. Matip had been excellent too. ‘Han-sen’ Dean had quietly breathed that name in my direction. It was the greatest compliment the German/African could ever have. Shaqiri came on for a cameo as Gini was finally rested, as did Milner. What a bench we have these days…

Near the end I we thought that Mane had scored a deserved hat-trick as Bobby got beyond the last man on the right of the Geordies area and squared the ball across to Sadio, who gleefully lashed the ball home. I celebrated. Then I realised I had broken my golden rule of not making sure a linesman’s flag had not been raised - which it had (years ago I’d celebrated wildly as ‘Rushie’ had scored yet again against Everton without checking the linesman first, who’d called offside. Very rarely do I not check now in a split-second, just to be on the safe side).

‘It was a joy to watch’ Dean summed – up, as we prepared to leave.

I wonder what else will be there the next time we come into the living room – if Davie has his way, maybe a ‘This Is Anfield’ sign!

14/9/19 Andy C Legs 1869
 

Broomy

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Enjoyed reading that article Andy, these are the match reports i'll be returning to read again come the end of the season, brilliant mate, can't wait to read more of your articles from Davies house following our upcoming matches with Napoli and Chelsea!
 

Commando

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Great read again @andyclegs. I think I'm going to rival Mrs CDO's love of the soaps in the way I'll be waiting for your match reports. The visits to Dave's front room will be looked forward to not as much for the post match report, but just as much to find out how the decorating is going on. We'll be hanging on with bated breath to see if Carly will serve some Hobnobs with the teas. Will the tea be hot enough for Deano?

Keep them coming. (y)
 



andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
I am firstly just glad that anyone took time out to have a read of my Rusty Reds - it means a lot. Never mind the encouraging, replies....Just fantastic, thank you ever so much... The credit all goes to my mates who are as mad on LFC as I am!!!! Andy
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi, I am just going to post this and if anyone reads it then just great! Any feedback at all would be brilliant. Cheers, Andy.
Avon Calling

Napoli v Liverpool

17th of September, 2019

I was having a nap after tea - as you do. Then I heard something drop through my letter box. It was a package of some sort. Instantly I thought that it was that book on Cardiff City, I’d bought off Amazon.

Before anyone complains (quite rightly!! Lol), let me explain, as I have been researching about my second cousin, Leighton Phillips, who played for ‘The Bluebirds’ from 1967-1974 and I have been gathering as much info as I can on his career - hence the book (by the way, Phillips very nearly became a Liverpool player – I kid you not).

So, I got up in anticipation, wanting to add to my 18 pages I’ve already written on his 16 - year career and I hoped the noise would herald more stories about that mid 60’s - 70’s time. However, I was gutted but extremely lucky.

It was ‘Avon’ that had dropped a catalogue onto my mat - I don’t currently have a missus of any description and as I ‘tutted’ I turned to see that some dozy idiot - ME - had only left the bleeding gas hob on, with a saucepan on top!! (an OMG moment!).

That’s why I was lucky – but I did not realise it at the time though that I had used up all my and Liverpool’s luck up for the day, in one fell swoop….


That was never a penalty. Andy Robertson got to the ball first and Jose Callejon who called himself a footballer but is really an actor and who should win an inaugural Balon d’oscar trophy, deliberately fell over.

The three of us, me, Deano and Davie, were up in arms - turning the air bitter ‘Ever-tun’ blue.

Up to that point, with me having made the early cuppa for me and Deano, as Davie and Jamie were sweating their cobblers off delivering their old sofa to Tom’s - Carly’s brother’s, we thought the reds had been playing quite well. (Tom for the record is also a red and once sported a t-shirt with Fergie having to call a helpline ‘1-4 1-4 1-4’ which made me chuckle in 2008 after Torres had destroyed Vidic).

Roberto Firmino had put a clear header wide of the Meret’s left post when it would have been easier to score.

Adrian, who looked more composed than at any time, had not only made a close-range double-save, but early in the second half, then produced a breath-taking, acrobatic, nimble, one-handed save at his left near post to win our plaudits - his best saves to date for us, by a country mile.

Sadio Mane had shown there was no volcanic seismic plate rift between him and Mo Salah, for when Mane skipped forward on the break he elected to pass to Salah on his left, instead of running on and being selfish. Salah though did not make the most of the opportunity, as the ball slipped away from his grasp.

‘He should have went on his own!’ Davie exhorted to Mane, now having changed into his new home top.

Mo Salah had though, been alert enough on the press and his presence may have forced sloppy play on the right edge of the Napoli area and he was onto the ball in a flash. Bearing down on Meret, at his right near post, Salah saw his rapier strike saved by the prostrate Meret, who managed to steer the ball to his left. A clear a chance as we had all night.

Several times though, as we now sat on the comfortable table chairs usually reserved for the other side of the room, where ‘Fudge’ was often commanded to get to her ‘Bag’ - obeyed obediently and immediately by Davie but not usually so by Carly, we debated whether a change was required up top.

‘Leave it for seventy minutes’ I’d said, hoping we would click slickly and glad we were playing ten times better than the shambolic way we had played there last season.

Gini Wijnaldum was on and James Milner was off - having picked up a yellow. It looked to me as though Gini was playing up top at times - the positions he was taking up.

As soon as Llorente came on I knew who he was - even with my limited knowledge of other teams, especially European ones and we all thought the same thing with Deano coming out with it; ‘He’ll be out for revenge’ as he had played for Spurs in Madrid. It would as usual prove a prophetic statement from Deano.

By about 9.30 Carly came home and if she did. It was the worst time to come back to a testosterone filled house as Virgil van Dyke? Andy Robertson? Adrian? or a combination of all three - had a defensive lapse and presented Llorente with a simple tap in, to make it 2-0.

Shaking of the heads as Carly made a cuppa and tried to relax - some chance though as we were all gutted by a score line Liverpool did not deserve.

Xheridan Shaqiri came on but with less than ten to play but what sort of impact had Jurgen Klopp expected him to make? I like Shaqiri, but he is no miracle worker.

At least the new sofa was going to be delivered, next week, as Deano complained about a bad back! It’s coming after one of the three girls - who were all there for a change, were going to have a sleep-over. Maybe by then Kayla - the oldest, will have an up and running mobile life again, because Deano had spent most of the first half trying to re-programme her phone after it plunged in some water.

By then, hopefully Lady Luck will have shone on Kayla and Liverpool; not some dozy twonk, who had earlier, nearly burnt his house down…

18/9/19 989
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi everyone, thank you for taking time out to read my articles and responding - very much appreciated. I have just written one about Chelsea and have posted it below. It would be just great if anyone finds time to read it and even respond. All the very best, Andy.

Banners for Kayla.
Chelsea v Liverpool
Sunday, 22nd of September, 2019.

As soon as I entered Davie’s house there were banners and balloons – it was of course for their eldest 14th birthday. Crumbs that had gone quick.
‘When we won the European Cup’ I said, as though absent-mindedly saying that it was the last time, we had won old Big Ears.

‘It wasn’t the last time’ Dean corrected me; Of course, it wasn’t, for as the game began, we could easily, audibly, hear our fans telling Chelsea that we were indeed Champions of Europe.

The new sofa had arrived. A three- seater; comfortable indeed and I tried to relax putting my reading glasses case on the side whilst putting my tv glasses on. Yes, it will happen to you all one day; just like saying, ‘Wha?’ no doubt and then putting a hearing aid in, like my mum did earlier on in the day! The sofa had opened the room out. Carly had the wide swivel chair – as queen bee, quite rightly so.

More sweets were piled in the bowl as I gave them the soft doughy pink and yellow ones from Morrisons and they were quickly gobbled. It was just far, far too easy to help yourself!

With the new over-head lights in place, costing £60 for the two from Dunelm and looking tidy and a cosy lamp in the corner, all that was left now was the new carpet – oh and a mirror and wall radiator for the other side of the room. Just lovely.

The team picked itself. Adrian, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Andy Robertson, Joel Matip/Virgil van Dyke. Then Gini Wijnaldum, Fabinho and captain Jordan Henderson in the middle. The terrible trio were up top: - Mo Salah, Sadio Mane and the man we all agreed again on, that we can’t do without; Bobby Firmino.

We started like an express train. Like the French one I’d seen in an old 1948 film which had involved a murder – of course; I’d loved it. Also, I loved the way we were pressing Chelsea. Snapping at their heels. As though immediately trying to make-up for that mid-week defeat.

Chelsea were not up too much but they were a threat on the break. Just as we put balls over the top of them so they employed the same tactic. Tammy Abraham got clear but fortunately was called offside. It was a warning.

Fabinho was just so smooth. Controlling everything and having a hand in the first goal. Is there a better midfielder out there? He lay the ball forward with the inside of his measured foot and Mane was fouled on the edge of their box. Free-kick.

I fancied Salah, as it was on his side. Trent was hovering though and we all know he can crack them. Salah rolled the ball to our young Scouse right wing back and before you could say ‘Hello’ the ball had been rifled into Kepa’s top left-hand corner. The reds were ahead and on the balance of play, deservedly so.

I raced off my seat and jumped-up in the air. That was such a vital break-through. I even took a swig of my tea which was in my cat’s cup which I had brought over as I did not want to give anyone my cold.

The home side responded really well. They had us pinned in our own half and just like the big bad wolf they tried to blow our red house down. We just could not get the ball clear or put our foot on it. Frank Lampard must have wished he had his boots on and was out there.

The ball came down our right. Into the box and Fabinho and Trent and Adrian contrived to let their skipper, Azpilicueta tap home from all of six yards out.

We felt crest-fallen and gutted but most of all angry that we had let our precious lead slip. What a comedy of errors. We thought that we had eradicated this from our game. Just as all of us settled back down, within seconds the tv screen showed that they were going to VAR. Hold-on. Then they displayed the decision – ‘No Goal’. My word, judging by the noise we made, we may as well have scored another goal! Just fantastic. Commentator MartinTyler, was gutted.

‘Be great now if we scored again to rub salt into their wounds’ Deano beamed, heading again for the sweetie bowl which was going down rapidly as we all stressed about the game.

As if by magic we won a free-kick on the right of Kepa’s area. Trent was over it again but this time Andy Robertson fired the ball high and over into the 6 - yard box and there was Bobby Firmino to head firmly into the same top left-hand corner of Kepa’s net to make it 2-0.
‘Yeahs’ I roared, leaping out of my ever so comfy seat again. Jumping-up where the mirror is going to be. It’s moments like that which decided vital matches and are the fine margins which decided the big prizes.
Bobby danced away in the corner, urging Van Dyke to join him. The bond between these players is there for all to see.

That was about as good as it got for Liverpool. Bobby Firmino himself had a chance very early on in the second half which Kepa just about flicked away and Sadio Mane could have done better. After that it was all Chelsea. They dominated and it was no-surprise when they did eventually, deservedly score. Kante just ghosted past red shirts which included Fabinho and struck a quite beautiful shot from in the area which again found that top left-hand corner. Adrian had no chance. 1-2.

Marcus Alonso was having the freedom of the bridge down our right as he time and again catapulted crosses into our area. Trent A-A was on his feet trying to cope with him and it took an age before Jurgen Klopp made a change and brought on Joe Gomez to try and rectify the situation. James Milner also came on and Jordan Henderson went off. Henderson had driven the team time and again. Displaying fighting qualities which were needed. It was arguably his best game for Liverpool so far this season.

Salah had a nightmare. His runs often ended in a cul-de-sac and he just, for the life of him, could not control the ball and hold it-up. He has had better games but you just know with him though that at one stroke he is capable of pulling-off a piece of genius which will decide a game on its own.

Adrian in fact kept Liverpool in the game. He made a couple of good saves and was right on it. His best performance in a red shirt by a country mile. He looked assured and with Van Dyke conducting the defence like a colonel at Waterloo in the middle of one of them squares, as the French cavalry pounded into them, Liverpool somehow held out. History repeating itself as the reds won against the blues.

Robertson showed the spirit again which runs through the team as he bolted out of defence and ran, ran and ran, to the tune of ‘Andy, Andy, Rob-ert-son’ and got scythed down in the centre-circle, to earn Liverpool a much needed free-kick with only seconds to go.

The sweets had been replenished at the break and there was a mountain of them now like the EU sugar one. They would keep for mid-week. We reckoned Liverpool’s team would not though, especially after having just about held on to win the game and incredibly gain their sixth League win on the bounce since the start of the season and their 15th on the trot this year. At the moment though; the only banners are for Kayla.

23/9/19 1307 Andy C Legs
 

Commando

Well-Known Member
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2,093
Great read again Andy. Just one small point though.



Adrian was wearing a black shirt not red. It’s okay though we’ll give you that one. ;)

Oh, happy birthday to Kayla.
 



William Clarke

REDSHIRT ~ I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
Joined
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Messages
2,232
@andyclegs a word of warning from someone who has Type2 Diabetes hanging onto him, too many sweets, mate. It could be the thin edge of the wedge to one or all of you getting it.

Government health warning over, I have enjoyed the couch reports from yourself concerning you and your gang of lads and lasses on match days. Next match report is the MK Dons, or to give them their proper title Milton Keynes Dons F.C., and are a fourth tier club who we should have no problem in beating with whatever side Jürgen puts out — unless we get too cocky. Cheers, Andy.
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hey, thanks guys who have taken time out to read my little piece. Great that you have reacted and written some comments - very much appreciated.
I won’t be able to see the MK Dons game as I’m in work!
Many thanks, Andy
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi everyone, I have just about managed to cobble something together from yesterday and have posted it below 'Kelsey's Keys'. Would be just great if anyone took time out to have a read and any feedback whatsoever would just be sooo much appreciated. All the best, Andy.

Kelsey’s Keys
Sheffield United v Liverpool
28th of September, 2019

This time I put my car keys in one of my trainers, on the stairs as I entered Davie’s hall because the last time two times, I left the house, I had forgotten them and only realised half-way down the road! Old age eh – it’s definitely crept-up on me; but where is my grey hair!

The electrician, the Manc, from next door, on the left, was doing a grand job and he would come in twice and ask politely how we were doing. We were not winning but also not losing and seemed to be happy with that – if it was United playing! A nice guy though – pucker. Just another step in the re-development of Carly and Dave’s house – akin to a show-home. I can hear that voice now – ‘Who lives in a house like this?’ well, ‘The Wheatsone clan!

It’s fabulous now and I’m a bloke and noticing this! A small low wooden table with draws on a mustard coloured carpet to match the curtains. Dead nice. And a large rug underneath. On the other side of the room was a new mirror and the tall dark grey wall radiator. Everything fitted just so.

‘And maybe a family portrait of some description’ on the one wall I suggested, in the same colours but Davie also was jokingly toying with the idea of a photo of Henderson lifting the European Cup or even dreamily thinking about another un-mentionable trophy Hendo could lift come next May.
In order for that to even possibly, remotely, on the off chance, happen, Liverpool had to try and win nearly all, if not every game, for that is what it is going to take for someone to stop Man City winning the title again.

With the first 11 having rested in mid-week, for the 2-0 win at MK Dons in the League Cup, where Harvey Elliott shone for me on the highlights and Milner of course, there was an un-changed team. ‘That’s how it these days’ Dean said, as he again came out with often what I am thinking, hence sometimes I finish his sentences for him.

Adrian gk, Trent AA, Andy Robertson, Virgil van Dyke, Alan – opps Joel Matip, Henderson, Fabinho & Gini Wijnaldum. Up top were the terrible trio of Mane, Salah and Bobby ‘Flick’ Firmino.

The all-blacks started by suffocating Sheffield United and not letting them out of their half. That was a great marker to set down. However, the resilient home team soon got into the game and gave as good as they got as they put ten men behind the steel wall and when they could, hit us with swiftness and no lack of one-two’s on the break which did cause a few hairy, scary moments.

I did not care about how much possession we have so long as Liverpool are winning – somehow. Side to side, back to Adrian, hoof, pass out wide, then too slow, snail’s pace slow in fact, to get around their defence. No wonder the sweets were going down rapidly. ‘Fudge’ the dog as soft as the refresher sweets, had even rejected some sweets I’d got from Morrisons, even Dean couldn’t tempt her with one. That dog was oblivious to all our shouting and angst as she just lay blissfully asleep on the side.

Anyhow, Liverpool were trying not to panic but were running out of ideas. All them passes and then Virgil van Dyke sent a direct long ball forward. Mane was straight on it and was through and as the keeper, Henderson came out, Mane was surely going to score - only he didn’t score, like that Brighton player, Gordon Smith all them years ago against Man U in the FA Cup Final. Mane, the one player on song, blasted over with his out-stretched right leg.

‘How did he miss that?’ shouted Dean who had got up off the comfy couch in anticipation of the net bulging. Exactly.

It was time for another swig of tea from my cat’s cup which I had brought again, as my blinking cold is still there and dangerously advancing on my chest. I did not want any of my adopted family getting my germs.

Just before the break Liverpool had another great chance to score, when we had all the terrible trio queuing-up to shoot. Mane though fluffed his lines – again, and hit Henderson’s right post when it would have been easier to bury the ball into the net. It was a gilt-edged opportunity.

So frustrating to watch as I thought about the similar games at Old Trafford and Goodison which had cost us dear in the end last season. This one was following an identi-kit script.

It must have been the first time Liverpool had not been ahead at the break, in the league this season (correct me if I’m wrong) and I did not like feeling in-secure. It was as though something was amiss and I did not mean just my keys, glasses or pen which all go missing in a Bermuda Triangle sort of way these days (yes Deano, it’s an age thing!! As I open-up another bottle of Just For Men! There was more chance of Liverpool scoring six in this game than that ever occurring).

Again, Liverpool came out and pulled a black duvet over the home defence but still it did not last. Sheffield United were once more dangerous and had their moments and I can’t for the life of me sit here and say that I can really recall any specific ones but they were always looked capable of scoring – especially when Robertson had to block a shot and then Van Dyke cleared, cleared as well in a separate incident when he swept the ball calm as you like out to our right. Then near the end they should have scored through veteran sub, Clarke.

‘Why is he wearing a chain?’ Deano asked as Clarke had taken his jewellery off ‘surely it should have been left in his locker?’. Thankfully Clarke’s effort was of no consequence and if he had scored it would have been ruled-out for offside.

Talking of decisions – why did Mane not have a penalty when he was challenged in the area as his foot was taken before the ball? That was a strange one.

We looked as though we were never going to score. Divock Origi finally came on and Bobby Firmino, who had been anonymous, for once, went off. Origi, sporting a new corner-flag, hair-do (in ode I presume to the 4th goal v Barcelona – you know the one), instantly went past a defender on their right and it was heartening to see. Origi then he somehow got the ball back onto the edge of the area and Gini Wijnaldum’s low shot from the edge of the ‘d’ was going to be easily gathered by Henderson but then the Sheffield keeper let the ball run under his body and ever so slow motion like, trickle over the line…

We just jumped-up in celebration and relief. Liverpool were somehow ahead through a stroke of mis-fortune but we would take it all day long!!!!
I recalled that blinking plastic ball which had deceived Reina the one time and I got confused. ‘It was against Sunderland’ Deano said. Maybe then this was some karma as it was up north and it was against a team wearing red and white stripes! Whatever, Liverpool were winning.

Milner came on as we had requested and the all-blacks tried to shore the game-up.

Somehow, Liverpool held on. Showing true fighting spirit. Always now when we have been trying to preserve slender leads, I think, ‘This side won the European Cup by defending nearly all game versus Spurs and surely that means something now and that they can repeat their backs against the wall spirit over and over’. Time will tell.

By now Carly had come home and six- year - old Kelsey had flitted in and out and had refused a sweet, at half-time from the bowl. I reasoned that if she could show such restraint, then so could I, so I did not have any more tempting sweets in the second half - I wonder if, in my warped superstition that maybe this did the trick? Perhaps I will try it again!

When I went to leave, I could not find my car keys. At least I had not got half way down the road this time! After much searching and looking at innocent Kelsey, she found them under the door mat. What were they doing there – Dave! I guessed it was he who had put them there not angelic Kelsey who had been tickled in celebration of another hard earned three points.

29/9/19 1466 Andy C Legs
 

Commando

Well-Known Member
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2,093
Another good read Andy.

I'm with you on the second half sweet abstention and new superstition. My nephews and I have a regular match going routine that we follow each time we go to the game.

Keep these coming. (y)
 



andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi lads/lasses, I have just written a piece on the game yesterday, maybe if you get five, have a read. Any feedback - good or bad, will be much appreciated. Thanks very much, Andy.

‘Sweets’
Liverpool v Leicester
5th of October, 2019

I got two packets of sweets from Morrisons – just in case and despite the fact Dean told me that he had plenty; I wanted to make sure, as no matter how many are mounted-up and over-flowing in the bowl, there are never any left by the end of the match!

Back and forth between ‘Messenger’ and ‘Facebook’ having finally joined Social Media properly and propelling myself into the 21st Century – one day I may suss it out; one day man may make it to Mars; one day Liverpool may win the League.

Quickly realising we were going to see the match at Dean’s flat, as opposed to Davie and Carly’s house, I whizzed down to Newport and entered chez Healey, with Davie and Carly and of course, angelic six-year-old baby Kelsey.
It was a three o’clock kick-off. It was another league game. It was yet another game we had to win.

We could have sworn we were at Anfield, the size of Dean’s tv, as images came through of the teams in the tunnel. I had laughed mockingly when Davie had told me that Dejan Lovren was playing at centre-half alongside our captain in waiting, Virgil van Dyke. Lovren hardly filled me with confidence and was surely rusty? He had not impressed at MK Dons either recently. Mind, Joe Gomes had lost it a bit in the mid-week collapse against Salzburg – so, yeah, why not put Lovren in.

It was the almost usual eleven. Adrian – who was probably playing his last game in goal for us until the next cup game as Alisson is back shortly. Then it was Trent Alexander-Arnold and Duracell Andy Robertson as full-backs. Gini Wijnaldum, Fabinho and captain for the day James Milner in the middle, as Jordan Henderson stepped-down to the bench. Up top were the terrible trio – Mane, Bobby ‘flick’ Firmino and Mo Salah. That team usually picked itself. That team was more than capable of winning most games it turned-up at.

We just hoped it would today.

Leicester were hard to break-down. Milner though should have scored after Trent nutmegged a defender on our right, crossed the ball and with time and space to pick his target, Milner blasted over the top right angle of Schmicahel’s Kop goal. A real chance to break the deadlock in a tight game.

Liverpool rarely looked in danger and that was because we were on our game. Having to be ‘on it’.

As the game played out there were stop-start, stop-start, stop blinking, pulling our hair out start, with the picture. I just sat back at one stage and thought that I am not going to get engrossed. Just accept it but that never happens when I am watching Liverpool; that never happens to the people who I was with either, my best mates and near as damn it, family as I can get to me. We are all as one.

The sweets were going down as the stress levels were rising and Liverpool were making hard work of breaking down Brendan Rodger’s blue shirted visitors. He is our manager, Jurgen Klopp’s landlord – don’t you know. Leicester’s Jamie Vardy has scored something ridiculous like 7 goals against us – we all feared he wold make it eight.

‘One chance, that’s all he needs’ Deano said, as I worried about that distinct possibility in such a tight affair.

As Kelsey was happily drawing on the table close-by, happy in her own company and being an angel, Liverpool won the ball deep on their left and Milner hooked it over the half-way line. Of all the people we would want it to fall to, it was Sadio Mane. He sprinted, sprinted away so fast that he could have won a 100 metres race in the happening World Championships and then when he got just inside the area, one flick of his right boot did the rest, as he finished like a marksman, as the ball nestled beautifully, snuggly, into the bottom left-hand corner of the light grey Schmichael’s Kop net.

We all jumped-up and celebrated. Sod the buffering. Sod Leicester’s ten men behind the ball defending. This was the moment which could ultimately signal victory. It was such a sublime strike. Sadio’s eighth I think they said later on MOTD, not that I am counting.

Sadio not only had scored the goal but he had produced a superb timed tackle, right on the right-edge of our area which Virgil would not have sniffed at. Also, he had put in a great block. Lessons were obviously being learnt from the other night when our defence was left exposed. It is a team game – they should defend as a team.

Another break, another heart in the mouth moment as Sadio stretched out his foot and nearly scored – again, only this time Schmichael gathered easily on the edge of his six-yard box.

The break came and there was something of a feeling of relief – ahhh, and relax.

I had a look at Kelsey’s drawing. I was impressed; as she had tried to copy the Liver Bird badge from one of Dean’s paintings. Also, she had put the date, ‘1892’ and I asked her to read it to me and she was able to, after a little help. Very artistic I thought. No phone or tablets involved – that was surely a novel way for a modern child to while away the hours.

We had seen that Villa were something ridiculous like 4-0 up at the break at Norwich. I was pleased for them, for though I utterly love Liverpool, I have gone onto the Villa forum and had nothing but superb feedback and above and beyond help in my quest to find information about Leighton Phillips whose career I am trying to write about. As Carly tried to educate me, a fifty- year-old, about modern social media, before we knew it, the game had re-started.

Liverpool went at them. Liverpool should have made it count. Mane to Salah, Salah to Mane – no problem at all between them. One of them should have scored – Salah I think, as the ball looped-up off a defender but there was no corner. We looked sharper and were dominating proceedings.
‘We’ve got to score now when we are on top’ Davie said. He was right, as Carly leaned over and grabbed more sweets, trying to duck, so we could still see Anfield.

What was it, 70 odd minutes and Leicester had half a chance? Swept just wide of Adrian’s right post. That was a warning shot across the bows.
Leicester were having more of the ball. Bobby Firmino was losing it. Salah was making us frustrated as he kept losing it too as we tried to re-discover some attacking fluency.

‘Get Origi on’ Davie chimed on more than one occasion as even Milner had begun to loss his thread like me typing in too much of a rush and having too many red squiggly lines under my words. Divock Origi was certainly an increasingly likely option.

Rodgers, our former manager, who we had sacked almost 4 years ago to the day, introduced Perez, a dangerous customer and a former Newcastle player whom if I recall rightly had, ahem, previously scored the winner against us.

A move down our left, the ball went inside, that Maddison whom the media have been raving about, turned inside the area and then, from the six-yard box, turned and his shot went under Adrian’s out-stretched right leg and into the net.

1-1.

Swear words in total frustration. It was a moment which could have a knock-on effect, especially if Man City – more than likely, beat Wolves. It was 1-1 and Liverpool only had themselves to blame as they had lost control of the game and not put it to bed. It is never a good sign when I am clock watching with twenty minutes to go – such was the case with this game.

The visitors, with their tails-up, started to look as though they could have snatched a winner. That would have just put the icing on the cake of our damp squib. It felt as though our chance of actually, finally landing that Title was slipping away in those precious moments.

With Origi on we looked sharper and Salah got scythed down by their permed sub whose name escapes me. All he got was a yellow but it should have been a red. Salah had turned his ankle over. Salah was hobbling but not on a stretcher as he left the field, so that was good news. He is a menace and a headache for defences – even if his touch is not great occasionally.

I was urging them on. Dean was getting more-red faced. Davie was calling them such niceties like ‘Pubes’ as baby Kelsey cwtched into Carly, who was aghast to see that she was now 18th in their Fantasy League.

Our frustration and angst reached new heights as high as Virgil van Dyke’s header flew over the bar from a corner. It was a great chance. Four minutes added on time whizzed down to the last minute. Last chance saloon was being entered as Liverpool flung the ball into the box and Schmichael did not collect it on the right edge of his six-yard box. Mane ran in and got hold of the ball and then there was some contact. Mane went down and then, with the picture threatening to freeze, the ref pointed incredibly, life-savingly to the spot!

‘Pen-al-teeeeee!’ roared Deano so loudly that it was a surprise that the traffic on the nearby M4 had not momentarily stopped.

Then the picture did freeze, just as the ref pointed to VAR.

‘How can it not be a penalty. He took his leg!’ shouted Deano, almost bursting at the seams.

‘Yes!’ I almost silently cried, not celebrating too much, just in case we did not score. Carly laughed at us. I bet she wished she had been ‘You Tubing it’ - it would be priceless…

The picture came back and then Milner was standing near the spot with the ball tucked under his arm, ready to take the VAR checked penalty, as Schmichael played silly buggers by approaching Milly and trying to put him off. Milly was all set to take it – then the picture went off…

‘Oh my God, I can’t take it’, I managed to wheeze out, clutching what was left of my hair. Time was standing still – like a freeze shot, as we all teetered on the edge of distraught disaster or evening ecstasy.

‘I hope it comes back on and we’ve scored!’ Davie said as he read our minds – not for the first time that day.

How long was it – thirty seconds maybe? Far too long to just be hanging there – like waiting for an answer to a proposed meeting on a Dating Website.

‘Yeaaaahhhhhhhhhhssssssss!’ we all screamed as one, jumping-up and down so much it was a wonder that we did not come crashing down into the flat below as we saw the Liverpool players celebrating. Milner HAD scored the, last gasp, 96th minute penalty….

Even then the ref allowed the game to carry-on. Leicester were attacking. Leicester looked as though, not at the eleventh hour but the twelfth one, that they could still snatch an equaliser.

‘Get it out!!’, ‘Clear it’ we exhorted to the men in red, with one eye on the man in black, ‘Blow the f**king whistle’ we urged.

‘Yeahhhhhhhsssssssss!!!!!!!’ we all jumped-up, as finally we were put out of our misery. Liverpool had won – just, right at the death. Leicester could not take it as a scuffle broke-out on the left edge of Adrian’s six - yard box – with our goalkeeper wearing his United Nations peace-keeping hat, as he tried to calm the situation down.

‘Massive. Massive’ was a word we repeated over and over again. We had used our ‘Get Out of Jail’ card – at the crucial time. ‘Mane I love him’ – said Carly, as I glanced at the empty sweet bowl, with a smile on my face, laughing.

‘Crouch, save your sweets for next time’ Deano said.

6/10/19. 2035













 

Commando

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2,093
As usual, a great read Andy. It's somehow comforting to read/hear about other fans going through the wringer of emotions.
What is your match day choice of sweets? Mine would be peanut M&Ms.

Keep the articles coming.
 

andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
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As usual, a great read Andy. It's somehow comforting to read/hear about other fans going through the wringer of emotions.
What is your match day choice of sweets? Mine would be peanut M&Ms.

Keep the articles coming.
Thank you for your kind comments - much appreciated. Normally soft chewy sweets - like wine gums or cola bottles! I try not to grab many - unlike certain people lol!!
 

Commando

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Thank you for your kind comments - much appreciated. Normally soft chewy sweets - like wine gums or cola bottles! I try not to grab many - unlike certain people lol!!
Come on spill. Who are certain people? Dean? Davie? Carly?

Surely not "angelic" Kelsey? :)
 



andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi everyone, I've written a little piece about yesterday's game. Maybe someone will possibly read it and even leave a comment or two. All the best, Andy.

VAR Money
Manchester United v Liverpool
20th of October, 2019

Carly needed Securicor considering what she had been walking around with before getting to Dean’s flat – about two and half grands worth of US Dollars – it was as though she was preparing to do an arms deal! In the event, she would have been better off having tried to bribe VAR or the ref with it.

I had arrived at Dean’s flat, on the top floor, and no baby Klesey, there is not a ‘Flat 7’ unless that is a new name for the roof. I had basically twiddled my thumbs for about an hour and finally had a short walk along the beautiful stretch of canal, along the Fourteen Locks; if you are ever near Newport, I’d highly recommend it. The café there does a lush coffee too amongst the setting over-looking green mountains. Sometimes you do not appreciate what is on your doorstep…

Dean greeted me with the news that Mo Salah was not playing; he had not even made the bench. Obviously, he still had not got over the injury he sustained in the assault by that Leicester player two weeks ago. Divock Origi was in and I was happy with that but maybe there is a case for a top-class striker in the January transfer window?

There were a pile of sweets in the goody bowl and I again left the two packets I’d got for the occasion in my bag. They will no doubt be used on another occasion.

I’d known Dean and Davie for over ten years and also Carly, Davie’s wife was part of the furniture whenever we all met-up; they are an extension of my family and they were all going to Florida on Tuesday – for ten eagerly anticipated days. ‘Fudge’ was going to stay with Dean’s mum and dad who love Davie’s dog and no doubt will spoil her to bits.

So, it was United away. A team in crisis and on the worst run of form in 30 years. Well twaddle. It was still Manchester United. Form goes out the window in ‘Derby’ games and this was the biggest fixture of this and any season. That will never change.
Liverpool had been getting away with playing not at their best for the last few games now but they had been good in patches. It was time to step up to the plate and produce.

Alisson was back in goals. Robertson and Trent. Matip and Virgil van Dijk. Fabinho, Henderson and Gini Wijnaldum – who had been on fire for Holland, scoring a cracker from outside the box against Belarus. Bobby Firmino, Divock Origi and the man being touted by the press as a possible Ballon D’Or candidate, Sadio Mane. A team strong enough to beat any team you would have thought.
Man United came out of the blocks and took the game by the scruff of the neck. Liverpool just could not get going or find any passing rhythm. It was going to be the same old story there – Liverpool freezing.

After, what, half an hour and Bobby Firmino finally having a weak shot for Liverpool, with the inside of his foot, Origi got fouled. Well, it looked like a foul to me as the United player put his foot through Origi’s ankle, about three-quarters inside the United half. I was sure ref Martin Atkinson was going to blow in any mili-second. But, no, he let play continue. He let Man United advance menacingly over the half-way line and then Daniel James crossed the ball from United’s right and there was a free, Marcus Rashford, sharp as a tack, to have the simple task of slotting past an almost helpless Alisson.

United were ahead.

Amidst all the protests, the ref did consult VAR. Maybe now would have been the time to have thrown Carly’s money in his hand but no, despite obvious evidence that Origi had been fouled in the build-up to the ‘goal’, it was allowed to stand.

To say we were livid was an under-statement. Jurgen Klopp, Liverpool’s manager was losing it on the side, gesticulating at the fourth official in protest at the ‘whites’ hard done by decision against them.

It did not matter how many times they replayed the incident the goal was going to stand. What should maybe have been of more concern, was the lack of concentration of Liverpool’s defenders to allow the cross in the first place and what was Matip doing whilst in the area with the rapier quick Rashford?

All of us thought and felt more like that Liverpool were not going to score. They just did not seem as though they were going to do anything. ‘Bogey’ was a word bandied about between us as much as we all reached for the sweets with me preferring the Jelly Babies on offer.
But lo and behold, Liverpool did attack and not only that, scored as well. It is not quite pantomime season yet but it may as well be as I just sat there motionless – waiting, waiting, as they showed replays of Sadio Mane definitely handling the ball with his left arm before turning the defender and shooting past De-Gea in an all-purple number. VAR did it to us again. ‘No goal’. More rude language which would have turned even Everton’s navy blue shirts a near black colour.

At one point I went right up to the massive TV and flashed the ‘V’s’ right in front of the ref’s moving figure and in total rage at his crap, biased, Man United decision making performance, shouted something sounding like ‘HUNT!!!’ which I know is totally out of character for me and had Carly in stitches as she hid her face behind Davie’s back. Within seconds, even I was laughing at the reactions my actions had on her, with her face nearly bursting into laughing tears.

‘We’ve got to get straight into them’ we all agreed at the break. I did not know what I hated worse, the fact we were losing to United or the fact we just had not played in any way we all knew we were capable of. We just wanted Liverpool to have a go at them.
Kelsey was being an angel. Earning more praise from Carly who had been as proud as punch of her little princess after the parents evening during the week. Mind, when I asked where the other two girls were, Caitlin was out with her friends and the oldest, Kayla, well, she was attempting to cram in two weeks-worth of homework so she could go on holiday without worrying about it!

The pattern was the same. United were soaking-up any pressure Liverpool tried to put on them and hit the visitors on the break. That Daniel James went down not once but twice as though he had been shot. Apparently he did it for Wales in the one game – to para-phrase a line from a scene in Gavin & Stacey, when they are in that chemist looking at pregnancy test kits and Stacey is starring a girl out, and eventually Stacey says, ‘I hate her’ well, ‘I hate that’ when players got to ground and stay there for nothing other than to break the game-up and I don’t care if James is Welsh, like me, he is a ‘Manc’, full-stop.

‘Get the Ox on’ I said as the hour mark passed. I said it again a few more times. Liverpool just need something – a spark as Firmino was not doing a lot and we were too predictable, passing the ball back and side-ways and trying intricate little give and go’s on the edge of the area, when surely one sweet ball in would suffice.

The boys too just sat there. Just feeling that our winning 17 game run was coming to a close with a defeat. United were suffocating us but eventually changes were made as the ‘Ox’ – Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain did come on and then Adam Lallana and Naby Keita.
Smiling, Carly turned to me and said, ‘Andy Klopp’. I laughed and won’t repeat what I said, at that but put it this way, I did not want Klopp’s money! She laughed as she and the boys know me so well! I love Klopp – who doesn’t…

It was, what, ten or even five minutes to go and Liverpool were at last exerting some pressure. Knocking the ball around on the edge of United’s area with some confidence. Then someone played the ball in from our left, a hook into De Gea’s left near post and there was Adam Lallana to put the ball into the net as calm as you like. I did not jump-up or dare celebrate. Oh no, not the way the game had already gone and the dodgy decisions which had been given against us. Atkinson checked with VAR and at last, a decision went for us. The goal stood.
I did not shout yes or react. Just quietly happy that we had equalised as that table in my head showed that we were now 6 points instead of 5 points ahead of Man City. However, the game was still playing out as the Liverpool fans could be clearly heard singing about some team being Champions of Europe with inflatable number 6 balloons having been evident before kick-off.

United though had a free-kick in a dangerous area but did little with it as the last five minutes of over-time was played out.
Then me and Dean held our breath as Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain’s low effort almost shaved the foot of De Gea’s left post. We both thought that it was going in as Liverpool went for the winner. However, we and they had to settle for the draw which Dean had stated that he would have snatched someone’s hand off for, at the break – exactly my sentiments.

I hugged them all farewell for their trip and was relieved to see Carly still had her handbag and still had the money – it had not been spent on VAR afterall…

21/10/19 1677 Andy
 
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andyclegs

Andy C Legs
Joined
Aug 22, 2019
Messages
193
Hi everyone, I've written a little piece about yesterday's game. Maybe someone will possibly read it and even leave a comment or two. All the best, Andy.

VAR Money
Manchester United v Liverpool
20th of October, 2019
Carly needed Securicor considering what she had been walking around with before getting to Dean’s flat – about two and half grands worth of US Dollars – it was as though she was preparing to do an arms deal! In the event, she would have been better off having tried to bribe VAR or the ref with it.
I had arrived at Dean’s flat, on the top floor, and no baby Klesey, there is not a ‘Flat 7’ unless that is a new name for the roof. I had basically twiddled my thumbs for about an hour and finally had a short walk along the beautiful stretch of canal, along the Fourteen Locks; if you are ever near Newport, I’d highly recommend it. The café there does a lush coffee too amongst the setting over-looking green mountains. Sometimes you do not appreciate what is on your doorstep…
Dean greeted me with the news that Mo Salah was not playing; he had not even made the bench. Obviously, he still had not got over the injury he sustained in the assault by that Leicester player two weeks ago. Divock Origi was in and I was happy with that but maybe there is a case for a top-class striker in the January transfer window?
There were a pile of sweets in the goody bowl and I again left the two packets I’d got for the occasion in my bag. They will no doubt be used on another occasion.
I’d known Dean and Davie for over ten years and also Carly, Davie’s wife was part of the furniture whenever we all met-up; they are an extension of my family and they were all going to Florida on Tuesday – for ten eagerly anticipated days. ‘Fudge’ was going to stay with Dean’s mum and dad who love Davie’s dog and no doubt will spoil her to bits.
So, it was United away. A team in crisis and on the worst run of form in 30 years. Well twaddle. It was still Manchester United. Form goes out the window in ‘Derby’ games and this was the biggest fixture of this and any season. That will never change.
Liverpool had been getting away with playing not at their best for the last few games now but they had been good in patches. It was time to step up to the plate and produce.
Alisson was back in goals. Robertson and Trent. Matip and Virgil van Dijk. Fabinho, Henderson and Gini Wijnaldum – who had been on fire for Holland, scoring a cracker from outside the box against Belarus. Bobby Firmino, Divock Origi and the man being touted by the press as a possible Ballon D’Or candidate, Sadio Mane. A team strong enough to beat any team you would have thought.
Man United came out of the blocks and took the game by the scruff of the neck. Liverpool just could not get going or find any passing rhythm. It was going to be the same old story there – Liverpool freezing.
After, what, half an hour and Bobby Firmino finally having a weak shot for Liverpool, with the inside of his foot, Origi got fouled. Well, it looked like a foul to me as the United player put his foot through Origi’s ankle, about three-quarters inside the United half. I was sure ref Martin Atkinson was going to blow in any mili-second. But, no, he let play continue. He let Man United advance menacingly over the half-way line and then Daniel James crossed the ball from United’s right and there was a free, Marcus Rashford, sharp as a tack, to have the simple task of slotting past an almost helpless Alisson.
United were ahead.
Amidst all the protests, the ref did consult VAR. Maybe now would have been the time to have thrown Carly’s money in his hand but no, despite obvious evidence that Origi had been fouled in the build-up to the ‘goal’, it was allowed to stand.
To say we were livid was an under-statement. Jurgen Klopp, Liverpool’s manager was losing it on the side, gesticulating at the fourth official in protest at the ‘whites’ hard done by decision against them.
It did not matter how many times they replayed the incident the goal was going to stand. What should maybe have been of more concern, was the lack of concentration of Liverpool’s defenders to allow the cross in the first place and what was Matip doing whilst in the area with the rapier quick Rashford?
All of us thought and felt more like that Liverpool were not going to score. They just did not seem as though they were going to do anything. ‘Bogey’ was a word bandied about between us as much as we all reached for the sweets with me preferring the Jelly Babies on offer.
But lo and behold, Liverpool did attack and not only that, scored as well. It is not quite pantomime season yet but it may as well be as I just sat there motionless – waiting, waiting, as they showed replays of Sadio Mane definitely handling the ball with his left arm before turning the defender and shooting past De-Gea in an all-purple number. VAR did it to us again. ‘No goal’. More rude language which would have turned even Everton’s navy blue shirts a near black colour.
At one point I went right up to the massive TV and flashed the ‘V’s’ right in front of the ref’s moving figure and in total rage at his crap, biased, Man United decision making performance, shouted something sounding like ‘HUNT!!!’ which I know is totally out of character for me and had Carly in stitches as she hid her face behind Davie’s back. Within seconds, even I was laughing at the reactions my actions had on her, with her face nearly bursting into laughing tears.
‘We’ve got to get straight into them’ we all agreed at the break. I did not know what I hated worse, the fact we were losing to United or the fact we just had not played in any way we all knew we were capable of. We just wanted Liverpool to have a go at them.
Kelsey was being an angel. Earning more praise from Carly who had been as proud as punch of her little princess after the parents evening during the week. Mind, when I asked where the other two girls were, Caitlin was out with her friends and the oldest, Kayla, well, she was attempting to cram in two weeks-worth of homework so she could go on holiday without worrying about it!
The pattern was the same. United were soaking-up any pressure Liverpool tried to put on them and hit the visitors on the break. That Daniel James went down not once but twice as though he had been shot. Apparently he did it for Wales in the one game – to para-phrase a line from a scene in Gavin & Stacey, when they are in that chemist looking at pregnancy test kits and Stacey is starring a girl out, and eventually Stacey says, ‘I hate her’ well, ‘I hate that’ when players got to ground and stay there for nothing other than to break the game-up and I don’t care if James is Welsh, like me, he is a ‘Manc’, full-stop.
‘Get the Ox on’ I said as the hour mark passed. I said it again a few more times. Liverpool just need something – a spark as Firmino was not doing a lot and we were too predictable, passing the ball back and side-ways and trying intricate little give and go’s on the edge of the area, when surely one sweet ball in would suffice.
The boys too just sat there. Just feeling that our winning 17 game run was coming to a close with a defeat. United were suffocating us but eventually changes were made as the ‘Ox’ – Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain did come on and then Adam Lallana and Naby Keita.
Smiling, Carly turned to me and said, ‘Andy Klopp’. I laughed and won’t repeat what I said, at that but put it this way, I did not want Klopp’s money! She laughed as she and the boys know me so well! I love Klopp – who doesn’t…
It was, what, ten or even five minutes to go and Liverpool were at last exerting some pressure. Knocking the ball around on the edge of United’s area with some confidence. Then someone played the ball in from our left, a hook into De Gea’s left near post and there was Adam Lallana to put the ball into the net as calm as you like. I did not jump-up or dare celebrate. Oh no, not the way the game had already gone and the dodgy decisions which had been given against us. Atkinson checked with VAR and at last, a decision went for us. The goal stood.
I did not shout yes or react. Just quietly happy that we had equalised as that table in my head showed that we were now 6 points instead of 5 points ahead of Man City. However, the game was still playing out as the Liverpool fans could be clearly heard singing about some team being Champions of Europe with inflatable number 6 balloons having been evident before kick-off.
United though had a free-kick in a dangerous area but did little with it as the last five minutes of over-time was played out.
Then me and Dean held our breath as Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain’s low effort almost shaved the foot of De Gea’s left post. We both thought that it was going in as Liverpool went for the winner. However, we and they had to settle for the draw which Dean had stated that he would have snatched someone’s hand off for, at the break – exactly my sentiments.
I hugged them all farewell for their trip and was relieved to see Carly still had her handbag and still had the money – it had not been spent on VAR afterall…

21/10/19 1677 Andy
Sorry this came out all as one - for some reason I could not put paragraph spaces on this piece when I transferred it to the forum page...Andy
 

Hope in your heart

Loyalty and patience, two undervalued concepts.
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Sorry this came out all as one - for some reason I could not put paragraph spaces on this piece when I transferred it to the forum page...Andy
I've merged your latest article with the existing thread. No need to open up a new one for that. Cheers!

Edit: also put a few paragraphs in it, hope that's ok!
 

Commando

Well-Known Member
Ad-free Member
Joined
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Messages
2,093
Another great read Andy. I was told off a couple of times by Mrs CDO for use of "colourful" language myself. I hope that young Kelsey was out of earshot. If she were to use some of uncle Andy's vocabulary in school then I'm sure that the next parent's evening may not be so good. :LOL:;)

Jelly babies have never been a favourite of mine (they are gone too quickly). I much prefer a toffee or a hard sweet to suck and enjoy for longer.