Sunday’s 3-2 victory over Tottenham puts Liverpool seven points off the top four but after such an inconsistent season under new manager Brendan Rodgers, perhaps there is reason for optimism that the Reds can challenge for Champions League football.
Can they do it? You’d have to be a fool to write them off. Seven points is nothing in this league. Seven points is a blip on the radar and Liverpool are honing in on the their targets. Allow me to set the scene…
UNTITLED DRAMATIC COMEDY TRAILER
North London – Dusk
Arsenal are currently lost in a ‘spiral of negativity’, trapped inside a red and white kaleidoscope, like some kind of warped psychedelic trip gone horribly wrong; their invincible utopia destroyed by a decade of selling their souls to the man.
The sun sets as they pass the ball around and around and around and around in a purpling haze, arousing suspicion that Andre Santos might have spiked the squash on his way out the back door.
“Whyyyyyy!” screams the cult leader, Le Professuer, on the touchline as wave after wave of goals pour in, crushing them like a tidal wave of Ashley Cole’s vomit as they cling to their 2-point advantage in despair.
West London - Night
It’s opening night and Chelsea are fluffing their lines. Rafael Benitez has lost his prompt cards as Fernando Torres stands motionless on the stage. Juan Mata repeats his cue line to no avail. Silence and then a cough.
The director sits in the royal box checking his watch and fidgeting restlessly as the audience heckles and boos - their cacophony in the 16th minute resounds around the auditorium, drowning out the orchestra's feeble attempts of 'Champions of Europe, we know we are'.
“He’s behind you!” the children cry as Jose Mourinho peeks out from behind the curtain. The players play and the show must go on but the plot surely been lost.
North London - Day
The starting pistol is fired as the barriers fling open. Tottenham dig their spurs in and pull away from the herd.
Looking nervously over their shoulder, they leap fence after fence riding high on Gareth Bale’s back as he gallops as hard and as fast as he possibly can; the chasing pack gnawing at his tale all the way to the finish line.
A trip, a stumble! Suddenly flashbacks of their fall in last year’s race come back to haunt them – it might just have to be a photo finish at this rate.
Motorway - Day
Meanwhile, four hours up the M1, Liverpool have been stuck in traffic. The Reds have certainly taken the scenic route this season and I’m sure Brendan Rodgers’ 50,000 back-seat drivers would have preferred he’d have wound down the window and asked for directions ten miles back.
But, nonetheless, better late than never – with 9 games to go, they’ve arrived at the party – fashionably late, you might say. Dressed to impress, they’ve only gone and pulled the league’s top scorer and he’s quite a catch.
Only one thing’s certain – somebody will crying by the final dance. And…Action!
image: © ruairaigh