IF a week, as Harold Wilson once famously remarked, is a "long time" in politics, your guess is as good as mine what he might have described six months in the world of football.
Back in the final month of spring, Liverpool and Crystal Palace played out one of the most remarkable games in both clubs' recent history.
The Reds, on what would turn out to be an impossible dream of winning their first league title in nearly a quarter of a century, held a commanding 3-0 advantage in their clash at Selhurst Park. There was still more than half-an-hour left to play but Brendan Rodgers's attack-minded outfit were still hell-bent on adding to their tally.
And there would be more goals in the encounter - three in fact. But sadly for all Liverpool supporters from L4 to Mongolia - both Outer and Inner if it exists - they were all scored by the home side.
The match famously - or infamously - ended 3-3 and pretty much ensured the club's prolonged wait for the league title would extend into a 25th season.
This afternoon, if Reds fans didn't already know it, that wait will likely now last at least as long as the period of time Manchester United endured before finally winning the top flight crown - 26 years.
On that Monday night in May, Liverpool attacked for all they were worth in an ultimately futile attempt to score a ridiculous amount of times to ensure they would be ahead of Manchester City on goal difference should they both finish on the same number of points.
They had 26 attempts on goal, eight on target with three going into the Palace net. They forced seven corners and enjoyed 65% of the possession.
Today, those numbers had been reduced to 12, one, one and three with only the latter stat similar at 64%.
And of the starting XI that night, five players played no part in this afternoon's encounter - three were absent through injury, one was on the bench while the other is now plying his trade in another European league.
For the record, the six players who made both line-ups were Simon Mignolet, Glen Johnson, Martin Skrtel, Steven Gerrard, Joe Allen and Raheem Sterling. Not a world-beating sextet, admittedly, but all the same, this was the core of a team that went within two points of that Premier League title.
You have to ask what on earth has changed with the team? Paradoxically, it's everything and nothing.
The side conceded three goals on both occasions showing that the defensive deficiencies which plagued the team throughout the campaign have not yet been dealt with. But whereas in May you felt Liverpool would bag a goal every time they went forward, this time you're just left wondering which player will be responsible for giving the ball away in another promising part of the pitch.
When Rickie Lambert put the Reds ahead today with barely a couple of minutes on the clock, it seemed things were going to be OK after all in the capital. It was a goal that must have had its origins on Southampton's training ground, Adam Lallana's pass to the striker rivalling Gerrard's through-ball to Daniel Sturridge at Craven Cottage in that memorable 3-2 triumph back in February.
But once Palace levelled matters - perhaps a touch fortunately, but hey, they all count - Liverpool's collective lack of confidence began to rear its ugly head yet again.
The team's defensive record which was papered over to a massive extent by the sheer amount of goals scored at the other end of the field, has been exposed. And this time around, there really is no hiding place any more.
All of which makes me believe that something must change now within the coaching regime at Anfield.
I'll lay my cards on the table and say I do not believe that Brendan Rodgers should be fired. That would be an absolutely ridiculous thing to do. He is a manager still learning his trade - and he has a lot still to learn - and I believe he can have a very successful career as Liverpool boss.
But his problem - and it's a massive flaw - is that he is clearly a manager who does not rate the defensive side of the game as important as the attacking.
In some ways, there's something quite laudable about that. But in football, it's absolutely fatal. The greatest international team I have ever seen, the 1982 Brazil outfit, were undone by an Achilles heel of a lousy defence. They were stunning going forward but once you tested their back line, they buckled. Paolo Rossi's hat-trick can account for that when they went out of the competition in a famous 3-2 loss to Italy. The Italians, of course, went on to lift the World Cup trophy in Madrid a week or so later. It could - and should - have been the Brazilians that summer. But it wasn't.
And similarly, it should have been Liverpool lifting the Premier League title last spring. But it wasn't. And the common link between the teams is the defence - or rather, lack of.
Say what you like about Jose Mourinho - and believe me, I'm not the only one who has (I cannot stand him as a person) - more often than not he organises his teams brilliantly to do a job. Yesterday was a classic Mourinho-led Chelsea victory. We've seen it so many times before it's like a stuck record. Score one, add an insurance goal and shut up shop. It might not be pretty, but by God it's effective. And at this stage, his team are cruising, hardly out of first gear, towards the title while sides around them are imploding, not least Liverpool.
So something has to change at Liverpool. The club must think seriously about bringing in a coach to work specifically on the defensive side of their game. In American Football parlance, a defensive coordinator. Because things have reached crisis point now when it comes to the team's defending.
In my view, drafting in that person should not be seen as a sign of weakness. Because when you recognise your own faults, it shows real strength of character. I suspect Rodgers would not like to admit that, largely through pride. But then, according to the old saying, doesn't a fall follow pride?
And given what the manager has already achieved with the team in such a short space of time, I would not like to happen. I want stability at Liverpool Football Club, starting with the manager.
His departure would not only lead to instability again, but would doubtless result in goodness knows how many years without the title. I want to give Rodgers the benefit of the doubt but even he must admit that something has to be done to stop this ship sinking before it's too late. It's listing dreadfully now and needs righting.
Former Liverpool great Jamie Carragher gave a damning indictment minutes after the final whistle.
He spoke about a "lack of leadership" on the field. For a side captained by club great Gerrard, that really made my ears prick up.
Whether that was a veiled dig at his ex-teammate, it's difficult to say. But leadership on the football pitch stems from the skipper. And right now, Gerrard is definitely not fulfilling that duty.
So there's much to be concerned about for all Liverpool fans just now. From the porous defence to an absence of on-field leadership to a lack of goals bailing the team out at the attacking end of the pitch, there are problems everywhere you look.
One thing is certain, these travails will not have escaped the attention of Fenway Sports Group.
And I fully expect them to act one way or the other should things not improve. After all, if we are to believe them, they are not here just to make a few bucks before selling up and moving on. Are they?
Anyway, in the meantime, if it were up to me I'd be giving our former number 23 a call to see if he fancies giving up his job at Sky Sports for a role at Melwood. He just might be the answer to his old employer's problems.
Sunday 23 November 2014
Monday 16 June 2014
You will never be forgotten, Tony
A GRANDFATHER passed away today.
The loving family man who was married with two children and three granddaughters died as a result of cancer.
He was just 54 years of age.
It's doubtful whether the news of the passing of Anthony Keith 'Tony' Gwynn Sr will merit a mention on the sports pages in the UK.
But on the other side of the Pond, the death of Tony Gwynn has been met with universal sadness and mourning across all of American sports.
Tony's passing has been acutely felt in San Diego where for two decades he was the face of the Padres, the southern Californian Major League Baseball team.
But he was much, much more than just a figurehead for the team. In a quite outstanding sporting career, he set or equalled a clutch of records that ultimately led to him being elected into the sport's coveted Hall of Fame.
Tony joined the sport's true elite in Cooperstown in 2007 on the first ballot of eligibility where he garnered almost 98% of the vote.
It defies logic why this figure wasn't 100%.
For 'Mr Padre' was one of the greatest players ever to play the game of baseball.
After a glittering showing as a basketball player for the Aztecs college team, Tony chose to swap the court for the diamond, and from May 1982 until September 2001 he embarked on a quite magnificent career.
In a sport where hitting the ball fairly is considered the hardest feat of all - a round ball meeting a round bat - Tony's dedication at the plate brought him a whole host of honours.
He won eight batting titles - tied for second-most in Major League Baseball history; he won seven Silver Slugger awards for the best batter in his position (right field); he claimed five Gold Gloves for his fielding prowess; he was chosen to represent the National League's team in the annual All-Star Game in 18 of his 20 seasons; he banged out 3,141 base hits; and he finished his career with a lifetime batting average of .338, the second-highest of any player since the Second World War.
Quite apart from his individual awards, Tony was a selfless team player. And he played his part in the ballclub's only National League Pennant successes in 1984 and 1998 when they reached the World Series only to fall at that final hurdle.
In an era where money-grabbing mercenaries move teams before a hat has even been dropped, Tony was one of the rare shining beacons of loyalty to a ballclub. He could well have won World Series titles with other sides like his hometown Los Angeles Dodgers or New York Yankees, but he stayed true to San Diego for the entirety of his career - and the Padres' fans loved him even more for that.
His iconic number 19 jersey was retired soon after he called it a career in the autumn of 2001, a most deserving accolade.
And six years later he enjoyed his moment in the upstate New York sunshine when along with the Baltimore Orioles' legendary infielder Cal Ripken Jr - himself also a one-club man - he was officially enshrined in the Hall of Fame.
In 2010, after suffering some bouts of ill health, Tony was diagnosed with cancer of the salivary gland. It was thought that chewing tobacco - a common habit of ballplayers - may have played a major cause in his illness. Tony showed great fortitude fighting the condition but it was one battle he just could not win.
Tony's funeral is sure to be an incredible occasion for the city of San Diego. And his legacy will live on as youngsters playing Little League and professionals in the Major League somehow learn to copy one of the sport's greatest exponents in hitting a baseball.
Rest In Peace, Tony. You will never be forgotten.
The loving family man who was married with two children and three granddaughters died as a result of cancer.
He was just 54 years of age.
It's doubtful whether the news of the passing of Anthony Keith 'Tony' Gwynn Sr will merit a mention on the sports pages in the UK.
But on the other side of the Pond, the death of Tony Gwynn has been met with universal sadness and mourning across all of American sports.
Tony's passing has been acutely felt in San Diego where for two decades he was the face of the Padres, the southern Californian Major League Baseball team.
But he was much, much more than just a figurehead for the team. In a quite outstanding sporting career, he set or equalled a clutch of records that ultimately led to him being elected into the sport's coveted Hall of Fame.
Tony joined the sport's true elite in Cooperstown in 2007 on the first ballot of eligibility where he garnered almost 98% of the vote.
It defies logic why this figure wasn't 100%.
For 'Mr Padre' was one of the greatest players ever to play the game of baseball.
After a glittering showing as a basketball player for the Aztecs college team, Tony chose to swap the court for the diamond, and from May 1982 until September 2001 he embarked on a quite magnificent career.
In a sport where hitting the ball fairly is considered the hardest feat of all - a round ball meeting a round bat - Tony's dedication at the plate brought him a whole host of honours.
He won eight batting titles - tied for second-most in Major League Baseball history; he won seven Silver Slugger awards for the best batter in his position (right field); he claimed five Gold Gloves for his fielding prowess; he was chosen to represent the National League's team in the annual All-Star Game in 18 of his 20 seasons; he banged out 3,141 base hits; and he finished his career with a lifetime batting average of .338, the second-highest of any player since the Second World War.
Quite apart from his individual awards, Tony was a selfless team player. And he played his part in the ballclub's only National League Pennant successes in 1984 and 1998 when they reached the World Series only to fall at that final hurdle.
In an era where money-grabbing mercenaries move teams before a hat has even been dropped, Tony was one of the rare shining beacons of loyalty to a ballclub. He could well have won World Series titles with other sides like his hometown Los Angeles Dodgers or New York Yankees, but he stayed true to San Diego for the entirety of his career - and the Padres' fans loved him even more for that.
His iconic number 19 jersey was retired soon after he called it a career in the autumn of 2001, a most deserving accolade.
And six years later he enjoyed his moment in the upstate New York sunshine when along with the Baltimore Orioles' legendary infielder Cal Ripken Jr - himself also a one-club man - he was officially enshrined in the Hall of Fame.
In 2010, after suffering some bouts of ill health, Tony was diagnosed with cancer of the salivary gland. It was thought that chewing tobacco - a common habit of ballplayers - may have played a major cause in his illness. Tony showed great fortitude fighting the condition but it was one battle he just could not win.
Tony's funeral is sure to be an incredible occasion for the city of San Diego. And his legacy will live on as youngsters playing Little League and professionals in the Major League somehow learn to copy one of the sport's greatest exponents in hitting a baseball.
Rest In Peace, Tony. You will never be forgotten.
Monday 5 May 2014
So maybe what we're going through is like Boston's 2003...
HAS a draw in a football match ever felt more like a defeat than tonight's incredible stalemate at Selhurst Park?
Well, yes, in the spring of 2009 when Liverpool and Arsenal shared eight goals in an extraordinary match at Anfield when the Reds needed a win to keep alive their outside hopes of lifting the Premier League crown.
But that was the night when Andrei Arshavin finally decided to play some football and became only the second opposition player to score four times at Anfield against Liverpool.
And like tonight, Liverpool ended the match with a point. But it felt worthless. And in the final reckoning, it pretty much counted for nothing as Manchester United claimed yet another title leaving us trailing in their wake once more.
We finished second that 2008-09 campaign and hadn't been knocking on the door of the title ever since - until this 2013-14 season.
And now it looks like all of the team's magnificent efforts which began with a dramatic opening day victory over Stoke City will all come to nought.
The way this drama is ending won't be lost on the club's owners.
Messrs Henry, Werner et al have been here before.
And they sure know how painful it hurts when your team loses.
So much has been written about how much joy they helped bring to Boston ending the 'Curse of the Bambino' in the autumn of 2004 when the Red Sox won their first World Series title in 86 years.
What might have been lost in this sporting fairytale that really did have an incredibly happy ending was what happened exactly 12 months before.
In the American League Championship Series, the Red Sox and Yankees were deadlocked at three games apiece in the best-of-seven showdown between Major League Baseball's deadliest rivals.
The winners would advance to the World Series and Boston had New York in a hole. They raced into a 4-0 lead but the Yankees began to battle back.
Nevertheless, heading into the penultimate inning, the Red Sox held a three-run advantage at 5-2 helped by home runs from Trot Nixon, Kevin Millar and David Ortiz. They were just six outs away from booking their place in the World Series and hoisting the American League pennant.
And then it all went wrong. Horribly wrong.
New York capitalised on some errant Boston pitching and some debatable managerial decisions to tie the game at 5-5 before an ecstatic home crowd at Yankee Stadium.
The game remained tied at 5-5 until the home half of the second extra inning, the 11th, and Aaron Boone entered baseball folklore for both good and bad depending on which side you were rooting for.
Because in the twinkling of an eye and the swish of his bat, Boone deposited a pitch from Boston's veteran hurler Tim Wakefield into the left field seats for a game-ending and American League Championship-winning home run.
Boone's blow inflicted incredible pain on Boston. To be near, and yet so far, was awful beyond comprehension for everyone in Red Sox Nation.
But, crucially, the blow was not a fatal one.
As devastating a defeat as there could possibly be in the post-season without reaching the World Series, the Red Sox did not go into a collective shell.
The ownership took affirmative action, personnel here and there were changed and by the spring of 2004 the team were all ready to go again.
And the rest is glorious history for all Red Sox fans.
Maybe history is repeating itself before our very eyes in two very different sports but with a common thread - the ownership.
And I am convinced that Messrs Henry and Werner, like they did in 2003, will take affirmative action this summer.
As wondrous as our attacking play has been this season, the Achilles heel of our defence was always there. And we paid for it terribly tonight.
So I fully expect defensive reinforcements to arrive at Anfield this summer - that has to be item number one of manager Brendan Rodgers's shopping list.
Thankfully, he should have more money at his disposal this time around given the club's automatic qualification for the Champions League, itself a most marvellous achievement that seems to have been lost, quite understandably so, in the team's push for the title.
And then, like the Red Sox in 2004, we'll go again. And maybe, just maybe, we'll be celebrating at the end of next season like they did that incredible year.
Sport, eh? It hurts like hell when your team loses but it's a love affair that lasts a lifetime.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
Well, yes, in the spring of 2009 when Liverpool and Arsenal shared eight goals in an extraordinary match at Anfield when the Reds needed a win to keep alive their outside hopes of lifting the Premier League crown.
But that was the night when Andrei Arshavin finally decided to play some football and became only the second opposition player to score four times at Anfield against Liverpool.
And like tonight, Liverpool ended the match with a point. But it felt worthless. And in the final reckoning, it pretty much counted for nothing as Manchester United claimed yet another title leaving us trailing in their wake once more.
We finished second that 2008-09 campaign and hadn't been knocking on the door of the title ever since - until this 2013-14 season.
And now it looks like all of the team's magnificent efforts which began with a dramatic opening day victory over Stoke City will all come to nought.
The way this drama is ending won't be lost on the club's owners.
Messrs Henry, Werner et al have been here before.
And they sure know how painful it hurts when your team loses.
So much has been written about how much joy they helped bring to Boston ending the 'Curse of the Bambino' in the autumn of 2004 when the Red Sox won their first World Series title in 86 years.
What might have been lost in this sporting fairytale that really did have an incredibly happy ending was what happened exactly 12 months before.
In the American League Championship Series, the Red Sox and Yankees were deadlocked at three games apiece in the best-of-seven showdown between Major League Baseball's deadliest rivals.
The winners would advance to the World Series and Boston had New York in a hole. They raced into a 4-0 lead but the Yankees began to battle back.
Nevertheless, heading into the penultimate inning, the Red Sox held a three-run advantage at 5-2 helped by home runs from Trot Nixon, Kevin Millar and David Ortiz. They were just six outs away from booking their place in the World Series and hoisting the American League pennant.
And then it all went wrong. Horribly wrong.
New York capitalised on some errant Boston pitching and some debatable managerial decisions to tie the game at 5-5 before an ecstatic home crowd at Yankee Stadium.
The game remained tied at 5-5 until the home half of the second extra inning, the 11th, and Aaron Boone entered baseball folklore for both good and bad depending on which side you were rooting for.
Because in the twinkling of an eye and the swish of his bat, Boone deposited a pitch from Boston's veteran hurler Tim Wakefield into the left field seats for a game-ending and American League Championship-winning home run.
Boone's blow inflicted incredible pain on Boston. To be near, and yet so far, was awful beyond comprehension for everyone in Red Sox Nation.
But, crucially, the blow was not a fatal one.
As devastating a defeat as there could possibly be in the post-season without reaching the World Series, the Red Sox did not go into a collective shell.
The ownership took affirmative action, personnel here and there were changed and by the spring of 2004 the team were all ready to go again.
And the rest is glorious history for all Red Sox fans.
Maybe history is repeating itself before our very eyes in two very different sports but with a common thread - the ownership.
And I am convinced that Messrs Henry and Werner, like they did in 2003, will take affirmative action this summer.
As wondrous as our attacking play has been this season, the Achilles heel of our defence was always there. And we paid for it terribly tonight.
So I fully expect defensive reinforcements to arrive at Anfield this summer - that has to be item number one of manager Brendan Rodgers's shopping list.
Thankfully, he should have more money at his disposal this time around given the club's automatic qualification for the Champions League, itself a most marvellous achievement that seems to have been lost, quite understandably so, in the team's push for the title.
And then, like the Red Sox in 2004, we'll go again. And maybe, just maybe, we'll be celebrating at the end of next season like they did that incredible year.
Sport, eh? It hurts like hell when your team loses but it's a love affair that lasts a lifetime.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
Sunday 27 April 2014
It's games like today's...
...that make me so proud to be a life-long supporter of Liverpool Football Club.
Little did I realise when I first decided sometime around 1973 when I was five or six years of age that the team wearing an all-red kit would take me on such an incredible rollercoaster ride of emotions.
From magnificent highs of cup triumphs and league victories to disappointing lows of cup losses and league failures to truly dreadful tragedies where the game itself became a total irrelevance, it's been a journey I've shared with many of my closest friends.
At the start of this 2013-14 season - I guess the 41st I have followed the team - I never would have believed that by the time we had played 36 Premier League matches, we could be within a matter of half a dozen points of perhaps winning our first top flight title in nearly a quarter-of-a-century.
After today's results, it seems that we may have to wait a little longer for that elusive 19th crown with Manchester City now installed once more as favourites to win the Premier League.
As it stands, we could triumph in our last two matches while the team from the Etihad Stadium win their last three. If it finishes that way, we would be equal on points but more than likely City would lift the title on goal difference.
It would be the second time in three seasons that City had won the title that way having memorably triumphed by that slimmest of margins over Manchester United in 2012.
Of course, as a Liverpool supporter, it would be a gut-wrenching way to lose the title; for me it would equate to how we lost the First Division crown to Arsenal on that late spring evening in 1989.
I was on The Kop that night and with my mind's eye can still picture the moment when Michael Thomas ran through on the goal 100 yards away at the Anfield Road End and ended our dreams of a second League and FA Cup double.
That was a campaign highly-charged with emotion in the closing weeks after the Hillsborough Disaster.
This time around, the season which, as always, began with hope, has, since the turn of the year, taken on an incredible life all of its own.
No-one would have thought that the team would win matches week after week after week.
But they did.
Manchester United, Arsenal, Everton, Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester City amongst others were all beaten, mostly very comfortably.
There had been no league defeats since December and the team were on an unprecedented roll that had taken them to the top of the table with just three games remaining.
And then came Chelsea today.
Their heavy reliance on defence may be laudable to those who love the way Italian sides play the so-called "beautiful game", but it leaves an unsavoury taste in the mouth, highlighted by the manager behind the tactics.
Jose Mourinho doubtless is a successful manager wherever he has gone. But I hope and pray he never becomes the boss of Liverpool Football Club.
The one overriding thing that matters to Jose Mourinho is Jose Mourinho. His celebration at Anfield today only underlines what a classless individual he is.
I could never imagine Brendan Rodgers behaving in such a way - and if I did I would be embarrassed as a Liverpool supporter.
You can talk about managers showing passion, but when he does, it just smacks of a man with no dignity and no class. You never saw the likes of Brian Clough, Sir Matt Busby, Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Kenny Dalglish and Jock Stein behaving in such a way as Mourinho did this afternoon in front of the Paddock after his team took an unassailable 2-0 lead.
Among the many things I ascribe to is the concept of karma. It may well come quickly for Mourinho as his team may well be dumped out of the European Champions League at the semi-final stage on Wednesday night. It may come later than that. But it will happen.
As for Liverpool, 2013-14 might be the nearly-season. In 2003, a year after Fenway Sports Group took over the Boston Red Sox, the team reached the American League Championship Series only to lose a heart-breaking best-of-seven series to the New York Yankees four games to three.
Baseball pals of mine will know that was the Tim Wakefield and Aaron 'Bleeping' Boone moment in Game Seven at Yankee Stadium.
Twelve months later, it all came good for the Red Sox in the most incredible way imaginable. Down three games to none against the Yankees in the same ALCS, the Red Sox reeled off four games on the spin to win the series and book their place in the World Series. Another four wins followed over the St Louis Cardinals and the team were World Series winners for the first time since 1918.
So maybe, 2013-14 for Liverpool may be like Boston's 2003. Perhaps we'll have to wait another 12 months before the glory finally returns to Anfield; perhaps we won't.
But whatever happens, 2013-14 has reignited my love affair for my football club, fired by the wonderful way the team are playing the game.
On numerous occasions I stood on The Kop and with thousands around me chanted "Attack! Attack! Attack!" as we targeted another win at opponents there for the taking.
It's been to the team's immense credit and the way we are playing that the fans have had no need to bellow that command from thousands of throats - they do it regardless.
Ninety-six goals in 36 matches - an average of almost 2.7 per game - speaks volumes and it's been wondrous to see.
So maybe we'll just fall short; maybe we'll win it all.
But whatever happens, as always, I am so proud to say Liverpool Football Club is my football club - and will be until the day I shuffle off this mortal coil.
Little did I realise when I first decided sometime around 1973 when I was five or six years of age that the team wearing an all-red kit would take me on such an incredible rollercoaster ride of emotions.
From magnificent highs of cup triumphs and league victories to disappointing lows of cup losses and league failures to truly dreadful tragedies where the game itself became a total irrelevance, it's been a journey I've shared with many of my closest friends.
At the start of this 2013-14 season - I guess the 41st I have followed the team - I never would have believed that by the time we had played 36 Premier League matches, we could be within a matter of half a dozen points of perhaps winning our first top flight title in nearly a quarter-of-a-century.
After today's results, it seems that we may have to wait a little longer for that elusive 19th crown with Manchester City now installed once more as favourites to win the Premier League.
As it stands, we could triumph in our last two matches while the team from the Etihad Stadium win their last three. If it finishes that way, we would be equal on points but more than likely City would lift the title on goal difference.
It would be the second time in three seasons that City had won the title that way having memorably triumphed by that slimmest of margins over Manchester United in 2012.
Of course, as a Liverpool supporter, it would be a gut-wrenching way to lose the title; for me it would equate to how we lost the First Division crown to Arsenal on that late spring evening in 1989.
I was on The Kop that night and with my mind's eye can still picture the moment when Michael Thomas ran through on the goal 100 yards away at the Anfield Road End and ended our dreams of a second League and FA Cup double.
That was a campaign highly-charged with emotion in the closing weeks after the Hillsborough Disaster.
This time around, the season which, as always, began with hope, has, since the turn of the year, taken on an incredible life all of its own.
No-one would have thought that the team would win matches week after week after week.
But they did.
Manchester United, Arsenal, Everton, Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester City amongst others were all beaten, mostly very comfortably.
There had been no league defeats since December and the team were on an unprecedented roll that had taken them to the top of the table with just three games remaining.
And then came Chelsea today.
Their heavy reliance on defence may be laudable to those who love the way Italian sides play the so-called "beautiful game", but it leaves an unsavoury taste in the mouth, highlighted by the manager behind the tactics.
Jose Mourinho doubtless is a successful manager wherever he has gone. But I hope and pray he never becomes the boss of Liverpool Football Club.
The one overriding thing that matters to Jose Mourinho is Jose Mourinho. His celebration at Anfield today only underlines what a classless individual he is.
I could never imagine Brendan Rodgers behaving in such a way - and if I did I would be embarrassed as a Liverpool supporter.
You can talk about managers showing passion, but when he does, it just smacks of a man with no dignity and no class. You never saw the likes of Brian Clough, Sir Matt Busby, Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Kenny Dalglish and Jock Stein behaving in such a way as Mourinho did this afternoon in front of the Paddock after his team took an unassailable 2-0 lead.
Among the many things I ascribe to is the concept of karma. It may well come quickly for Mourinho as his team may well be dumped out of the European Champions League at the semi-final stage on Wednesday night. It may come later than that. But it will happen.
As for Liverpool, 2013-14 might be the nearly-season. In 2003, a year after Fenway Sports Group took over the Boston Red Sox, the team reached the American League Championship Series only to lose a heart-breaking best-of-seven series to the New York Yankees four games to three.
Baseball pals of mine will know that was the Tim Wakefield and Aaron 'Bleeping' Boone moment in Game Seven at Yankee Stadium.
Twelve months later, it all came good for the Red Sox in the most incredible way imaginable. Down three games to none against the Yankees in the same ALCS, the Red Sox reeled off four games on the spin to win the series and book their place in the World Series. Another four wins followed over the St Louis Cardinals and the team were World Series winners for the first time since 1918.
So maybe, 2013-14 for Liverpool may be like Boston's 2003. Perhaps we'll have to wait another 12 months before the glory finally returns to Anfield; perhaps we won't.
But whatever happens, 2013-14 has reignited my love affair for my football club, fired by the wonderful way the team are playing the game.
On numerous occasions I stood on The Kop and with thousands around me chanted "Attack! Attack! Attack!" as we targeted another win at opponents there for the taking.
It's been to the team's immense credit and the way we are playing that the fans have had no need to bellow that command from thousands of throats - they do it regardless.
Ninety-six goals in 36 matches - an average of almost 2.7 per game - speaks volumes and it's been wondrous to see.
So maybe we'll just fall short; maybe we'll win it all.
But whatever happens, as always, I am so proud to say Liverpool Football Club is my football club - and will be until the day I shuffle off this mortal coil.
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