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This was Hull; bit like hell but the fire and brimstone, plus a bucket full of fury came from our fans – and hopefully the manager. They say you don’t become a bad team overnight but we’re sure as hell looking like one at the moment. There’s no point in blaming one individual because it’s all down to the team and the Kaiser. We can all have our thoughts and our theories as to what’s gone wrong but they count for nothing because it’s down to the manager and his players to put things right. Unlike in some of the recent games this was just about our best line-up and it still never looked like getting us out of the hole we’ve somehow landed in. The incentive was there when Arsenal lost but it made little difference. After we’d beaten Manchester City Jürgen said Chelsea had won all those games in a row and we’re still breathing down their necks. Well that was then, they’re over the hills and out of sight now. Best find the drawing board I guess?

Thank God January 2017 has been confined to the history books, brought back memories of Black November 1995.  At least last night we saw a game and the fact that Chelsea are the best team in the country at the moment, the table never lies, we’ve bettered them once and matched them once because we certainly earned the draw we got last night, altogether a fair result.

There was also some noise in the ground which makes a change and tells you the crowd can turn it on when the game is a biggie which isn’t what the team wants, it’s what they want every game.  Maybe our support now sees Chelsea in a similar light to Manchester United because there was a bit of ‘hate’ floating around.

Even though we again dominated the stats we didn’t do enough when in and around their goal, one shot in the first half that the ‘keeper saved is all I can remember.  A few months ago we were having half a dozen shots on target in each half, in fact sometimes many more.  Firmino should have knocked in one of the two chances he had in the second half because when teams defend in depth chances need to be taken, although that’s stating the obvious.  I can’t think of too many more real chances apart from our goal.

I’ve not seen the penalty decision and I’ve not seen the replay of their goal but regardless we give away too many free kicks and inevitably we will pay the price.  From where I sat I don’t know whether Mignolet should have done better with the goal but to be fair it was a hell of a shot and caught everyone unaware, including the crowd.  Jürgen was right when he said Costa wasn’t a nice guy but I wish we had a few unpleasant ones in our team.  He reminds me of Suárez, so much determination coupled with the nasty streak.  We could do with a bit of meanness in our midfield but that doesn’t mean you give even more free kicks away; it means the opposition don’t like it.

Now January is out the way, the game every other day [or so it seemed] has been laid to rest, only a top four finish to concentrate on we can still turn this into something far better than expected.  I’d have taken top four in August; I’ll definitely take it now.  Don’t lose to the Gooner’s, Spurs or Manchester City, beat the others and we’ll be back in the Golden Egg draw come next August. It’s down to the Kaiser and his boys.

 

 

Not a lot to be said about our shambolic exit from the onetime valued FA Cup.  Our ‘weaker’ side was deservedly beaten by Wolves ‘weaker’ side and that’s about it really.  The brainless Moreno gave his vast army of critics more ammunition by first of all giving away a totally needless free kick inside the opening minute, the fact that Wolves went one up as a result is neither here nor there because the majority of regulars knew it would happen due to the fact that our ‘best’ defence can’t defend very well, let alone one that gave the impression it was put together by drawing names out of a hat.  The second goal came after we’d played tip and tap on the edge of the Wolves penalty area before messing up and leaving a breakaway goal inevitable.  Changes did get made, they made little difference, we never really looked like we could salvage anything and our goal four minutes from the end didn’t make the slightest difference.  No trips to Wembley then so we concentrate on the league then?

We rarely looked like scoring despite domination possession, and that’s the third time it’s happened this season against Southampton.  You could sense we would struggle from almost the off and that’s how it turned out.  A team packs their penalty area and we don’t know what to do.  Familiar story.  The last minute winner on the night mattered little, it just gave the Saints what they deserved.  We bowed out tamely and that’s both sad and annoying.

I looked at the time, it was 5-15am. I had things to do before setting off for another day at the Holy Ground. It was real Brass Monkey weather which isn’t too bad when there’s daylight but daylight was still a few hours away. I’d heard the Matip saga had been resolved so a bit of good news to start the day. At about half ten outside Anfield Brass Monkey’s would have still been advised to stay indoors but the sun was shining and I thought to myself, not a bad day to be watching football. Unusually I hadn’t heard any team news, not until I was tucked away in a corner of the Lower Anny. As Loud Mouth Pete gave out the team I thought I’d misheard, Matip wasn’t playing. Ah well, we should still be okay shouldn’t we? Ten minutes into the game I said to my match day companion, the famed Mister Pilchard not a lot was happening; we had the ball, we had the ball a lot but not much was happening. Half an hour into the game I said it was all a bit indifferent and as far as Anfield being a cauldron of sound, which it rarely is on these occasion you couldn’t even suggest a Librarian was required. It was more Mausoleum. The first half was definitely sitting behind paint dry in the items of interest column. In a rare foray forward minutes into the second half and after some defensive mayhem we’re so capable of, Swansea had a corner. A guy sitting behind us shouted out boringly “Who R Ya” and Mister Pilchard said, “You know when we concede goals don’t you”. And that’s just what we did. I turned round to the other guy to say, “Who is he then” only he seemed in a state of shock. The guy sitting next to me had gone for a halftime cuppa which he brought back with him. By the time he’d sat down it was 2-0 and he muttered, “What’s happened?” Nobody seems to know what happened or what’s happening. Even when we got back level Mister Pilchard whispered, “You know what’s coming” and it did. T’was the Recurring Nightmare on L4.