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The end to an arduous 22-year campaign for truth surrounding the Hillsborough disaster could at last be in sight as the UK government has confirmed it will release all contemporary documents relating to the day in question. After a 139,000-strong online petition and a moving parliamentar y debate led Ho me Secretary Theresa May to announce up to 300,000 files will be released. The relatives of the 96 Liverpool fans who died at the 1989 FA Cup semi-final have maintained a relentless campaign for government minutes to be publicised, to prove once and for all that Reds fans were innocent and that South Yorkshire police alone were to blame for the tragedy and lied to cover the fact up. While the famous Taylor Report , which paved the way for the all-seater stadia of the Premier League we have today, exonerated the supporters and confirmed the police were responsible for the crowd control which turned fatal, the South Yorkshire force's role in spreading misinformation has never been confirmed officially. What seems clear is that the policeman in charge of opening the gates that April day, David Duckenfield , tried to cover his back by putting out stories to the FA, government and press of drunken and rowdy Liverpool fans barging their way into the Leppings Lane end and crushing their colleagues to death. This dishonest spin was taken up and amplified by a Rupert Murdoch tabloid and a Conservative government already hostile to football and its fan culture - at the time the impish Sports Minister Colin Moynihan was running an ill-conceived campaign to make English supporters carry I.D. cards to gain entry to stadia. Margaret Thatcher's bullish press officer Bernard Ingh am told the cabinet "tanked-up" fans were to blame, while oafish local Tory MP Irvine Patnick, despite not having been at the match, gleefully supplied the ammo for the Sun's notorious headline 'The Truth', which claimed Reds fans had stolen from, sexually assaulted and urinated upon their fellow supporters as they lay dying. Sun editor Kelvin Mackenzie remains unapologetic for the nadir of British journalism, telling an after-dinner crowd in 2006: "I wasn't sorry then and I'm not sorry now because we told the truth." Clearing the final hurdle in the campaign for truth has probably arrived on the back of this summer's phone-hacking scandal , when a nexus of collusion between the Murdoch press, the police and politicians was laid bare for the public to punish. Those affected by the disaster, from the victims' relatives to the millions who had passed through English turnstiles to stand in caged pens and who empathised fully with th e tragic events as they unfolded, may soon be able to relax in the knowledge the whole truth of the darkest day in English soccer has been established. Football history has recorded Hillsborough not only as a human tragedy but as the death knell for the fortress-like stadia of cages and barbed wire and gritty supporter culture which was the norm throughout the 1970s and '80s. Hooliganism, which seemed out of control a t times in the 1980s, lost its sheen after Hillsborough, as the seriousness of fans losing their lives was brought home to one and all in England. I n the aftermath of the disaster , the removal of perimeter fencing for the Liverpool v Everton FA Cup Final heralded the spectator-friendly stadia we know today, and along with England's heroics at Italia '90, beckoned new private investment in th e game which would become the behemoth of today's FA Premier League. Tragically, it took a human disaster for morons to realise violence was stupid, and for the authorities to realise that crowds and revenues would grow if they treated their paying customers with respect. The 96 dead, whose names were read out in parliament today, ranged in age from 10 to 67 and included the cousin of current Liverpool FC captain Steven Gerrard . (c) Sean O'Conor & Soccerphile Tags World Cup Pens World Cup Posters Euro 2012 football

Landing at Hong Kong airport this week, I expected to be greeted by adverts for the next generation of electronics, or maybe banks, or cars. The sight of Stuart Downing in an Aston Villa kit on a bilboard was a little surprising. As another recent addition to Dalglish's Liverpool squad, Downing was an unfortunate selection by advertisers of the Barclays Asia Trophy. The 2011 version of the biannual four-team event involves his former club 1982 European champions Aston Villa, local up-and-coming champions Kitchee, 'superclub' Chelsea, and (as proof of the pull of the 'EPL', as well as some of it's more prestigious members) Blackburn Rovers. Although as Rovers fans would be quick to highlight, the Lancashire club have at least won the Barclays Premier League, something Liverpool are yet to achieve (at the time of writing) and Aston Villa could only dream of. Despite the popularity of the English game, I was able to go directly from airport to hostel to stadium and purchase a £20 ticket. Meeting up with friends local and Liverpudlian, we endured two games at the Hong Kong stadium that typified preseason football. Aston Villa and Blackburn did their best to maintain a goaless scoreline, before Daren Bent claimed the game's only goal. Playing for the right to play the victors and avoid their conquest in Saturday's final / play off, Kitchee then played host to Chelsea. Villa-Boas' men strolled to a four-goal victory, with double Didier Drogba strikes sanwiched between goals from Lampard and Sturridge. Substitute Fernando Torres received a warm reception by the majority of the crowd, but failed to find the net. Aston Villa and Chelsea are likely to face a more useful test of their credentials and fitness on Saturday's tournament decider. © Dr Joel Rookwood & Soccerphile Tags World Cup Pens World Cup Posters Hong Kong football

Tonight against Birmingham City at Stamford Bridge, Fernando Tor res may score his first goal for Chelsea. Sooner or later, the £50 million pound-man must break his duck and s h ow his new employers what he is really made of. Yet thus far, his transfer has been a near-disaster. No goals in twelve games, Torres has failed to gel with his new teammates while his record-breaking arrival has seen Chelsea dumped out of Europe and fall away in the title race. Torres clearly can cut the mustard, and was probably the world's best striker in 2008, but has not been the same player for the last season and a half. He was not firing on all cylinders in South Africa and looked listless for Liverpool in his final year there. A decline seems to have set in from the day Spain lost 0-2 to the USA in the 2009 Confederations Cup semi-final. The Spaniard now seems to have lost his exquisite first touch and his shooting sights are askew. Not only has he yet to find the net despite benefiting from one of the best attacks around, he has not looked even close to scoring. His aim is cock-eyed while he is struggling, in the vernacular, to trap a bag of cement. What is going on? Nobody really seems to know. Torres is hardly past it at age 27, won the World Cup last summer and has not yet forgotten scoring the winning goal in the Euro 2008 final. He is a happily-married man who is known for staying at home with his family instead of hitting the town. He is fabulously rich. So why can't Fernando suddenly play football? Confidence is the old chestnut of an excuse for a lack of form or a run of good form. It is true, the more you win the more you believe in yourself and vice-versa, but Torres is not facing relegation. Once he scores one, many are claiming, the floodgates will open to a tide of goals. But the C-word clearly has a big role to play in football. It must explain to a great extent the almost perennial discrepancy between home and away form for a start. And how many times do you hear a team accused of showing the other 'too much respect' or not 'believing in themselves enough'? I once interviewed the Japanese international goalkeeper Yoshikatsu Kawaguchi, and although English was not his strongest language, I was struck by how much he mentioned the word confidence - a part of the English footballing lexicon all right. What is keeping Torres nervous? Is the problem the lack of a Spanish-speaking legion at Chelsea like there was at Liverpool, is it tension with a coach who might have been forced to sign and play him by his chairman (shades of Jose Mourinho and Andriy Shevchenko), is it famil y issues or perhaps an inability to adapt to a new home, teammates, formation and playing system? If Fernando has left his confidence in Liverpool, who can help him find it again in West London? Clubs have been using psychologists for some years, although no-one seems to have analysed their efficacy in terms of results. It is normal for motivational speakers to address the squad and for trained specialists to encourage them to visualise success and fill their heads with positive thoughts. Psychology is still a controversial field in some scientific circles, although in its popular form it has spurred a giant self-help industry, tying in nicely with the American way of pioneering self-reliance. Although as a US international footballer once told me, "You can have all the confidence in the world but if you don't have that ability in the first place..." In the past, managers were motivators alone, but with managers morphing into first-team coaches, clubs employ specialists in several fields. That same footballer told me what his club really needed was a stroke of luck, a break that would grant them a much-needed win to spur them on. Perhaps Fernando just needs to hear that first thwack of the onion bag and he will soon be his old self again. He has barely half a dozen games left this campaign in which to find his shooting boots, so perhaps a summer free of tournaments and a nice long rest will do the trick. If next season he is still playing like a pub player instead of a £50m man, it really will be a case for a Mr. Sherlock Holmes. (c) Sean O'Conor & Soccerphile Tags World Cup Pens World Cup Posters Euro 2012 football

Dr Joel Rookwood The 2003-04 season had ground to a halt on Merseyside, as Houllier’s Liverpool breathed its last monotonous, mediocre breath. Unaware that an inspired Spanish successor would lead the club to the European crown twelve months later, I headed south for the final weekend of the French/Spanish leagues: Bordeaux V Monaco preceded by Athletic Bilbao V Atletico Madrid. Monaco were European Cup finalists four days later, but the memory of that weekend is dominated by the performance of one man: Fernando Torres. Unfazed by the prospect of playing away from home, the 20-year-old captain won the game on his own, scoring all three Atletico goals. When Fernando Torres signed for Liverpool three years later, memories of that Basque evening basking in the brilliance of El Nino came flooding back. A substantial fee was justified by an even more substantial return. £24m Torres went on to score 65 goals in 102 games for Liverpool. Output aside, the cultural assimilation of Liverpool’s number nine was a process that began even before his famous signature graced a Liverpool contract. Rumours began to circulate about the club’s motto appearing on his armband in his final days at Madrid. This is Torres’ autobiographical account: “It happened in San Sebastian when I was playing for Atletico Madrid against Real Sociedad. I was battling with a defender, and the captain’s armband I was wearing came loose and fell open. As it hung from my arm, you could see the message written on the inside, in English.” The resultant song in celebration of an overnight Liverpool hero almost wrote itself: “His armband proved he was a red, Torres, Torres. ‘You’ll never walk alone’ it said, Torres, Torres. We bought the lad from sunny Spain, he gets the ball he scores again, Fernando Torres Liverpool’s number nine.” This was a period in which local social movements to ‘Keep Flags Scouse’, ‘Reclaim the Kop’ and reignite the ‘Spirit of Shankly’ saw a few thousand regularly vocal attendees move to the centre of the Kop. Disagreements over conditions and behaviours and the resultant friction between stewards and Kopites in Block 306 led to a refusal to ‘remain seated’ and instead – ‘bounce’. Predictably the animated chorus was instilled in the midst of the Torres song. “We’re gonna bounce in a minute” became a warm up, a reminder, a threat, an inspiration. Paul Du Noyer notes that: “With its back-alley poverty and idolatrous passion for football Liverpool has been compared to South America.” Yet at no other European club would such adulation have been bestowed. Torres’ commitment to Liverpool was reinforced by his goals and his accolades. He claimed: “The Kop is magical and generous; it transmits a kind of positive energy that fills you with confidence. It never lets you down. It never leaves you.” His allegiance and performances were honoured in flags, songs and bounces. It must be said that Torres’ reign as King of the Kop was subject to unfortunate timing. Poisonous foreign ownership, restrictive transfer policies and mismanagement on and off the field frustrated the man who fired Spain to European and World titles during his tenure at Liverpool. Club honours continued to elude him however, as Liverpool’s domestic and continental challenge faltered. I pitied Torres, a forward of world renown, as seasons came and went without the addition of a striker or winger of any note. Talented but ill-fitting and unsettled players were rightly sold but wrongly replaced. With that in mind, many heartbroken Liverpudlians would have accepted Torres’ decision to move on to pastures new, under certain conditions. The model for the legitimate leaving of Liverpool is represented by the departure of European champion Xavi Alonso. His lucrative arrival at Real Madrid in no way diminished his Anfield legacy. His consistently professional and respectful conduct and choice of subsequent employers mean that the related sentiments that echoed around Anfield are no less true today: “everyone wants to know – Alonso, Alonso, Alonso.” If El Nino had have chosen to leave for a non-English club in return for £50m, and said nice things about Liverpudlians in doing so, trophyless Torres would have been well remembered. As anyone at Anfield would have admitted over the last three years, Torres deserves a stable club, an inspirational manager and a world class partner in crime. Yet after 1284 days at Liverpool, Torres chose the very day in which those elements were finally fused (infrastructural stability, legendary management and the signing of ‘the hand of the devil’ – Luis Suarez) to put in a transfer request. In general terms I am an advocate of this process, as the transparency usually aids accountability. However, the circumstances surrounding Torres’ departure are difficult to support, unless of course you wear the blue of Chelsea, or Everton. I hear both sets of fans were singing about “Chelsea’s number nine” during the FA Cup tie at Goodison on Saturday. (I also hear Everton are delighted with their new Eastern European signing by the way. Ingrid will replace Maureen the cleaner who has reportedly received a shock promotion taking her to Asda). When the request was made, Liverpool’s response was reflective of the ‘Liverpool Way’ of old. Dalglish was ultra impressive in his handling of potential Liverpool targets and departures. Whereas Spurs ‘gaffer’ ‘arry Redknapp seems happy to discuss any potential signing in the world to any journalist who will listen, the Liverpool equivalent chooses not to act like an ale house manager. Dalglish discourse is considered and humble, and it follows action rather than leads to it. When King Kevin Keegan broke Liverpool hearts by quitting the European Champions in 1977, our response was to sign Dalglish, the greatest Liverpool player there will ever be. When Ian Rush was sold to Juventus in 1987, the replacements of John Barnes, John Aldridge, Peter Beardsley and Ray Houghton helped produce the 1988 team, one of the greatest Championship winning sides to have ever graced this city. Keegan’s departure was inspired by a desire to play for a ‘bigger club’. Similarly, Fernando Torres’ opening words to Chelsea supporters was: “This is the target for every footballer, to try to play for one of the top clubs in the world. They [Chelsea] are one of the biggest teams in Europe and are always fighting for everything. It's my dream to win the Champions League and I'm sure I can, playing for Chelsea.” The implications about Liverpool are not difficult to interpret. If this is his objective however, it seems strange to move to a city that is yet to produce a single European Cup. In the day Torres left to increase his chances of winning the coveted prize, Paul Konchesky signed on loan for two-time winners Nottingham Forest. (Their supporters should brace themselves for some legendary performances on the field from Konchesky, and some notable pleasantries off it from his mum). Torres’ decision to join Chelsea is undeniably a choice to play for a club that represents everything Liverpool do not. Whether El Nino has made an inspired or insane decision, time will tell. Yet given his insight into Liverpool culture, he will know full well that his words and actions have served to sever all ties with Anfield, in a way no player ever has – Michael Owen included. Torres’ five fingered salute at Old Trafford is consigned to history. He now represents a club with a zero on their Champions League badge. In his autobiography Jamie Carragher discusses the “recent epic battles” between Liverpool and Chelsea, perceived to be “a clash between football tradition and the arrogant rich: While we celebrate our working class roots, the Londoners love nothing more than to wave £20 notes at our visiting fans. Their players are granted the luxury of behaving like celebrities and superstars. Ours are expected to abide by a different set of values – the Shankly laws – and to show humility in a city where being flash is frowned upon.” Torres’ Chelsea will play host to Liverpool on Sunday. Their recent acquisition will surely see a further demonstration of the philosophical gulf that exists between the clubs. But with the visitors having sold the injury prone albeit world class crank, it is worth remembering that Ryan Babel slipped out the Anfield exit this week – yet even the physically challenged rapping addict of social networking had the decency to tweet these departing words: “There is no other club than Liverpool with the anthem ‘YNWA’ – Beautiful. Wanna thank ALL of you fans but the ones in particular who believed in me and supported me all those years. It’s definitely a shame it didn't worked out for me and the club, but that’s how it is sometimes. I was blessed to work with one of the greatest football players and I learned a lot. I learn to love the LFC way, the city, the people and I made lots of friends in Liverpool.” Who ever thought a departing Babel would engender greater Scouse support than Torres? It is also worth remembering that Liverpool will have two exciting attacking recruits to select from when we face Chelsea (fitness permitting). The purchase of Newcastle’s Andy Carroll joins Luis Suarez from Ajax in what could prove a very threatening Liverpool attack. No man is bigger than a club like Liverpool. Torres was allowed to leave for Chelsea because he wanted to go there – but no position is more important than the manager, and at Liverpool – the future’s bright, the future’s Dalglish. In the meantime, I’m off to warm up the vocal chords for a good round of ‘Where’s your European Cups?’ I might leave the bouncing in the past though – where it and Torres belong. Tags World Cup Pens World Cup Posters Joel Rookwood Liverpool

FA Cup 3rd Rd: Manchester United 1:0 Liverpool What a difference a minute makes. Anfield hero Kenny Dalglish , returning as Liverpool's manager after a decade's sabbatical, was an unexpected picture of sunny composure before kick-off against Manchester Un ited today, relaxed and joking about his upcoming assault on Mount Everest. Was this smiling Scot the same Dalglish whose tense and dour façade confronted the cameras the last time he was in charge at Anfield? The same manager would often slip into thick Glaswegian to deliberately confuse the pesky interviewers, until the unresolved pain of Hillsborough meant he could bottle his inner turmoil up no longer. His resignation in 1991 following a grueling 4-4 derby draw, came as a real shock. We know top managers are under permanent pressure, particularly when relegation fears place them under what they themselves call 'deathwatch', but they do not tend to walk out citing stress when their teams are riding high. King Kenny had unfinished business with the Reds, and mentally as well as physically had never left Liverpool, but it took 90 seconds, not minutes today in Manchester, to remind him that football folk are crazy. A controversial penalty, courtesy of a Dimitar Berbatov fall to earth, pushed Liverpool onto the back foot and plunged Dalglish back to 1991, the stress returning for the first time in years. Then Steven Gerrard was shown red for a flying lunge and a nightmare had descended upon Kenny's second coming. Every cut to the visitors' bench showed a man possessed by the past, the initial radiance drained from a suddenly aged and haunted face, the warmth of a long-desired homecoming replaced by the unforgiving chill of the wind of defeat. There was to be no first-game fillip for Dalglish's new Liverpool, who enjoyed some promising spells but failed to threaten the Red Devils meaningfully. Whatever may happen between now and the season's climax in May, rest assured Dalglish will go to bed a troubled man tonight, tossing and turning in his sleep after only one day in his dream job, recoiling at the taste of the poisoned chalice he leapt onto a plane in Dubai to drink from. Why did Dalglish do it, throw himself into a more frightening and challenging lion's den than ever, when he had no money worries and could have enjoyed a quiet life as a scout and occasional pundit? Liverpool is in his DNA is the only explanation, and his blood runs Anfield red. One man's madness is a football man's logic. Whether it was right to sack Roy Hodgson after only half a season and replace him w ith a Liverpool legend who has not coached for ten years remains the unanswered question hanging over Liverpool's new owners, the Fenway Sports Group (FSG). Hodgson had spoken presciently of his fate for some time, caught in the conundrum of being unable to turn down the offer of such a glamorous job, but equally painfully aware the odds were stacked against him coming out alive from it. Liverpool still need new blood and big money, which so far FSG have failed to supply. In selecting a former club hero, FSG look as clueless as any incoming owner desperate to assuage the fan base: Read Alan Sugar choosing Ossie Ardiles for Tottenham or Mike Ashley picking Kevin Keegan at Newcastle for a glimpse into the future of Dalglish and Liverpool. They made the right noises about long-term planning, but in the end chose a short-term fix which has made a losing start. They would have done better to have noticed the top two managers in the Premier League, Alex Ferguson and Arsene Wenger, have also been there the longest because their owners kept faith in them. In their much-praised book, 'Why England Lose' , Simon Kuper and Stefan Szyminski argue strongly that changing the manager makes little difference when the money a club pays its players remains the same. Ignore the lazy talk about coaches like Hodgson losing the fans and/or the dressing room - fan popularity hinges on victories on the field, while players do not automatically warm to a coach who brings them success. Results define an employee's value more than anything else. Maybe Kenny will go on to work wonders, but only if he is handed serious money for signings and above all time, the manager's greatest gift of all. (c) Sean O'Conor & Soccerphile Tags World Cup Pens World Cup Posters Euro 2012 football

With the club finishing a mere four points off the Premier League summit in 2009, succumbing to only two league defeats in the process, this campaign was supposed to be full of promise for Liverpool. In reality however, it is proving a nightmare season for Rafael Benitez and his team. In truth the Rafa Regime has always maintained ‘on the brink’ status. In his first seasons, Champions League and FA Cup finals were won on penalties in 2005 and 2006 respectively, with the following seasons culminating in a narrow defeat in the European Cup final, and then semi-final. With the Anfield title famine an ongoing source of suffering, 2009 was all about the obligation that is the Premier League title. The club were ultimately denied the coveted prize, although once again, in circumstances that could easily have been reversed. Love him or loathe him, Benitez is right about one thing, the difference between success and defeat is all about ‘the small details’. The devil it seems, is in the detail. One thing that does seem certain is that this season will produce the least convincing champions in Premier league history. Whichever club lifts the crown in May will likely do so despite a sultry points tally and a string of defeats – a record that in other seasons would no doubt barely have warranted a top four finish and subsequent Champions League qualification. But the challenge of the second quadruple of teams – Man City, Spurs, Aston Villa and Everton – below the ‘big four’ is collectively stronger than it has previously been, and the performances and results of those above them have hardly been the stuff of champions. Liverpool serve as the most compelling case in this respect. In a campaign that is amounting to the definition of underachievement, virtually the same team as that which came so close to the title last year, is languishing in the melancholy of its own mediocrity this season. The defeat at Wigan on Monday night was Liverpool’s ninth in the league, and the tough fixtures are far from over. It was such form that Liverpool took to Lille in northern France for the Europa League last sixteen clash on Thursday night. Having been present at 49 consecutive Liverpool European away fixtures heading into 2010, stretching back to a match against Galatasaray in 2002, I could be forgiven for considering my opinion on Liverpool’s European plight a qualified one. However, with work commitments being what they are, I was unable to attend the recent Europa League fixture against Unirea in Bucharest. (Ironically I was instead presenting a lecture at a sport politics conference in Leeds on fan participation and social movements at Liverpool Football Club). The second leg of the tie against the Romanian minnows followed a painfully uneventful 1-0 home victory at Anfield. In the return leg, Liverpool ended up strolling into the second knock-out round of the competition, despite conceding an early goal which briefly levelled the aggregate score. After surviving the brief scare against the Romanian champions, most Liverpool fans seemed content at the prospect of a tie against Lille. PSV, Barcelona, and Marseille have all been repeat visits in my almost-half-century of trips to the continent, and Lille was at least a break from the norm. In addition, despite our horrendous form, lowly Lille were surely not destined to offer much competition over two legs, particularly with the latter fixture set to be played at Anfield. The short journey across the Channel appeared ideal preparation for the quarter-final, and we were grateful to avoid the long trip to the over familiar Istanbul that would have been on the cards had Lille lost to Fenerbahce in the previous round. Sixteen lads met at an exclusive Huyton alehouse the night before the match, ready and suitably intoxicated for the ridiculous departure time of 22:50. I can only imagine the driver of the minibus, the ageless Pops, was merely trying to get us accustomed to the farcical Europa League match kick-off times. The game was an 18:00 start (GMT) at Stadium Lille-Metropole, with the return leg set to commence at the still more absurd time of 20:05 next Thursday. Football is for the fans, apparently. Such pathetic organisation – not to mention the lowly status of the competition – contributed little to Liverpool’s sense of connection to a trophy that the club is apparently looking to secure for a record fourth time in Hamburg in May. Judging by the performance of the away team, and the atmosphere generated by the visiting support in the stands, no one in the Liverpool corner appeared committed to anything but a sharp European exit. The 1100 away fans that managed to secure a ticket, in a stadium with a capacity roughly twenty-times that number, appeared largely disinterested in the tie. The only action of note off the pitch was the lighting of a flare by an unnamed Kopite a quarter of an hour into the second half. It rose the collective spirit, but only temporarily. As Belgian teenager Eden Hazard shot Lille into an unlikely but ultimately decisive one-goal lead in the concluding stages of the second half, I looked down at the succession of ‘Europa League’ advertisement boards and noticed that each was interspersed with others containing the word ‘respect’ – representing UEFA’s latest blood-sucking political campaign, I mean, value-laden mission ‘for the good of the game’. But given the calibre of opposition, unsociable kick-off times, and multiple redundant tracksuited officials, together with the dominance of the continent's premier tournament, it is becoming increasingly difficult to ‘Respect Europa League’. In reflection, the pressure that Benitez is under is partly a consequence of results and performances this year – including fifteen defeats thus far in all competitions – and of the six years of failure to win the league title. However, the regime that functions on the brink has also unquestionably produced some notable achievements, and it is also the difficulty of living up to and reproducing these considerable highs that Benitez is currently struggling with. Burdened by the weight of Anfield expectation, he has simultaneously become the victim of his own success, and the reputation he has forged. However, in addition to Liverpool’s results this year, his recent public statements – pledging a fourth place finish, refusing to state where he will be employed next season, and drawing on his past achievements – are also worrying signs. Yet as concerning as the first two are, the latter development is particularly alarming. Benitez has argued in no uncertain terms that he has restored Liverpool pride, which is undeniably the case. It was only nine years ago that victory in the UEFA Cup (admittedly as part of a quintet of trophies secured that season) under Gerard Houllier saw a frenzied response from Liverpool supporters. Now, mere involvement in the newly branded version comes closer to representing a source of shame. However, publicly reminding the footballing world of one’s own achievements is not an act undertaken by a self-assured man who confidently expects to achieve more of the same. The image of Jose Mourinho’s six-fingered salute as Chelsea secured the 2007 FA Cup serves as a notable contemporary example. His record of a half dozen trophies in three years was impressive, yet his fingers were not seen clasping another trophy in West London blue, and within the year he was managing in Italy. For Benitez, a similar threat has now entered the frame of possibility. There are cracks in this regime, and the only mechanism of repair begins with satisfying those three concerns: Secure a top four finish, win the Europa League and remain in charge next season to rectify the errors in judgement. To that end, dispatching Lille next Thursday night has simply become an obligation.

Aquilani set for Anfield as Liverpool move quickly to replace Alonso Liverpool may have finally lost Xabi Alonso to Real Madrid after a summer long transfer battle but manager Rafael Benitez has wasted no time in finding a replacement. The man set to fill the void is talented Roma midfielder Alberto Aquilani, who is set for a medical later this week. The two clubs agreed a fee of around £20million for Aquilani just a few hours after Alonso completed his £30million move to Madrid. A statement on the Liverpool website confirmed that Aquilani has been lined up as a replacement for some time. It said: “Liverpool completed their discussions with Roma once the sale of Xabi Alonso to Real Madrid was finally agreed.”

Steven Gerrard has been cleared of affray after a jury accepted his claim that he was acting in self-defence in punching a man three times in a Merseyside bar. Some years ago I was the victim of a robbery in Liverpool, on my first visit to the city in fact. Returning to the vast QE II Courts for the trial, the same complex where Gerrard would appear as the accused this week, I recall a Scouse detective looking up at the towering red-brick buildings and lamenting to me, "This place will always be busy." Liverpool was England's second city in the 19th century but suffered steep economic decline when its shipping industry died in the post-war decades of the 20th. In freefall during the Thatcher era, crime boomed and the city won an unfortunate reputation as Britain's most deprived and desperate place, a tag it has done much to try to shake off, including being named Europe's Capital of Culture in 2008.