Grab a coke

‘Grab a coke.’

Liverpool v Flamengo

World Club Champions Cup Final

21^ST of December, 2019.

The flags were out – the lucky ones. Red and white cheque of course. Laid along the top of the fire – Christmas – nah, final – yes!

This is what we had waited all day for – to see Liverpool play the Brazilians because the moment we qualified for this final I got excited to see us pit our wits against Flamengo.

I’d spent most of the day just chilling in Morrisons and then in front of the tv, determined to lay and rest as much as possible, with a cold on my chest so it was a sofa and various cups of tea and coffee with ‘Only Fools and Horses’ constantly on in the back-ground as I fought, un-successfully to get off ‘Twitter’ which is increasingly addictive. Just how have I survived without it all these years!

That’s the thing about ‘Only Fools and Horses’ though, it doesn’t matter if your idling whilst it’s on at any given moment you can look-up and know what is going on and you can’t help but laugh, especially when that bus blows-up or Del Boy has a few words with ‘The Great Raymondo’. Just brilliant.

Davie and Dean and myself were the audience then, Carly was working and even though she was not there physically, she was there in spirit and no doubt ready to laugh at our antics.

The boys were drinking already but I had my tea – making it myself, as soon as Davie put the switch-up on the wall that is. One day again, I may have a few sherberts; it may even be Boxing Day. We will see.

And so, to the BBC and the preliminaries to the game. Mark Lawrenson recalled the last time Liverpool played Flamengo, in Tokyo in December, 1981. He revealed that the boys were drinking on the plane going over and they lost 3-0 to a Brazilian side which included Zico. I just about recall watching the game – showing my age. We were crap. It still didn’t make it any easier to take the defeat though and you only have to look at Phil Thompson and Alan Hansen’s glum faces when the Brazilian’s lifted the trophy to see that.

There were, a pile of sweets in the bowl and I grabbed a couple of the soft ones before kick-off. I wanted us to win but, but I just felt that if we didn’t then the League was and is, the be all and end-all this season.

Jurgen Klopp put out the strongest side he could have; Alisson, Trent Alexander-Arnold and Andy Robertson as wingers/full-backs, Virgil van Djke – back from illness and Joe Gomes. Then Jordan Henderson, Naby Keita and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain in the middle with Bobby Firmino, Mo Salah and Sadio Mane up top. This side had not been on the pop – that’s for sure.

Well, Liverpool should have scored after about 50 seconds! Bobby Firmino though lofted a chance straight over the bar. If that had gone in it would have settled any nerves. Almost in the flick of a one-liner coming out of Del’s mouth, like ‘cushty’ Liverpool through Naby Keita could have scored again but the opportunity was passed-up.

We were exasperated that Liverpool had not taken that early lead and even more so when after dominating the opening quarter of an hour the reds surrendered all the momentum as Flamengo increasingly came into the game.

I began to shout at the screen. Increasingly annoyed by the way Liverpool kept failing to win the ball and then lose it when they actually had it with Mo Salah on the receiving end of a particular violent outburst, straight from the mouth of any past Phillip’s in a bad temper, proving yet again I was my late dad’s son! (It was only because I care and love Liverpool so much…) We all felt the same as another handful of sweets was grabbed in frustration, as though it was a crutch to fight against the on-screen developments.

For all of Flamengo’s possession though they rarely got shots off which troubled Alisson and when they did, he was equal to them, by flinging his left arm out at one stage. Liverpool were just out of ‘Bassett All Sorts’ you could say as they struggled to stop the stream of Brazilian attacks as they streaked through our non-existent midfield.

Was it no wonder, even at this early juncture we urged, ‘Get Milly on?’.

Liverpool survived, somehow, but in no small thankfulness to Joe Gomes who was outstanding throughout the game and is back to his very best, as Liverpool began to at last mount some attacks themselves before half-time. It may have prevented them from having an ear-bashing from Klopp.

More tea, more sweets as Baby Kelsey tried not to annoy her two older sisters, Kaitlyn and Kayla, who were both under-the-weather in some description or another; poor dabs. No wonder Kelsey spent the game, sat with Davie on his wide swivel chair which would not be out of place in the gaff of a 60’s Bond villain!

I put the soft refresher sweets into the bowl and before I could sit down, Deano was in like Sadio on the break-away and began to munch on them – well, it was Christmas and there was even love-heart shaped Ginger Nut biscuits in a box which I dipped into my tea and even offered Deano that option, as he scoffed one and then gave half to Fudge, the dog. He loves that dog – as we all do.

At the start of the second half, with a rocket up their proverbial back-sides, Liverpool, wearing all-red, came out of the traps, again, in great fashion and should have again taken the lead but Bobby Firmino could only put his shot just inside the right of Alves post before coming back out of goal.

Liverpool could not have got any closer.

I concluded that we were not going to score, that the ref – what a joke, was going to constantly get conned by Flamengo’s players who if you so much as said ‘Hi’ to them, were going down as though they had just been shot. Such play-acting tactics – horrendous. In response I took-up a slumped resigned position – almost a laying down one; trying not to get myself to even feeling that we were going to actually get on the ball again, let alone look like scoring; almost trying not to disappoint myself but really, inside, wanting us desperately to win.

The game was coming to a close. Oxlade -Chamberlain fell down and that was not good. Not good at all. That lad has had enough major injuries in his career to last at last two life-times. This time it was his ankle – not his knee which he recently had surgery on. We like ‘the Ox’ though he had not had much joy in this game.

James Milner – ‘Milly’ then, was, afterall, called on.

Then we got Sadio Mane away, with about a minute left. Running away to our right, on the screen, as we saw it. Sadio was about to pull the trigger and then he appeared to be kicked on the inside of his ankle, just inside the area. The shot was a poor one. I felt as though Sadio – for him and the form he has been in, could have done better. However, within moments Deano and Davie were off the sofa, shouting, ‘Pen-al-tee!!!’.

I really didn’t think that it was one but well, I’d take it, all day long! The Brazilians had cheated and play acted, going down with cramp now at any given second – even their keeper, who had then miraculously pulled off a finger tip save from Henderson’s scorching effort, to tip the ball over the bar. ‘How can a keeper have cramp??’ Deano shouted. Exactly.

The longer the delay, with Mo Salah cwtching the ball under his arm, ready to take the spot-kick, the ref – again I make no bones in saying this – the court jester more like, actually consulted the VAR screen, which we could see. My suspicions were confirmed. No penalty – worse luck. Not even a foul as a yellow card was rescinded. If we had been awarded the free-kick I bet Trent would have taken it – ‘It would be as good as a penalty’ Deano mused.

I just shook my head. Trying not to get aggravated. Just feeling again that, despite dominating the second period and creating, again, the best chances, Liverpool were not going to win.

Liverpool though, re-grouped and stood-up to anything which Flamengo threw at them as at one stage Andy Robertson endeared himself even more to us by having an argument with one of their players, illustrating the fighting spirit which characterises this Liverpool team to its core. I would not want to mess with ‘Robbo’, that’s for sure!

Then, with Flamengo in a rare attack, the ball came out of our area and Jordan Henderson played a beautiful, long, pass forward, on the deck, to Sadio Mane who had the beating of the defender. Sadio used all his experience and passed to his left to Bobby Firmino who had machined his way up field just to receive the pass on the edge of the area. Bobby did the rest as in the blink of an eye he controlled the ball, cut it inside the defender and slow mowed the time to a frame by frame count to coldly pick his spot and make sure that he scored.

Such a cool, clinical, cup winning finish put Liverpool near the top of the world.

Now it was time for me to leap off the sofa and shout ‘Yes’ to the ceiling, if not roof-top, to no doubt awake a sleeping Kayla.

We had scored. At last. In a World Club Cup Final!

As we celebrated, Liverpool and Mo Salah could have scored again, to seal it there and then. Liverpool really wanted this, especially Bobby, who had taken his shirt off in celebration of his goal, earning himself a needless booking. Just why is this a booking?

‘Kill the game’, ‘Go down with cramp’ we urged the reds, as the time ticked by and I got my maths wrong, thinking there was only two minutes left when there was actually another five to endure…

Liverpool though were in control and always, always when they have something to hold onto, I think back to those last few minutes against Spurs and to how close we were to winning the Champions League trophy. The mentality of these players now knows no bounds I’m sure, because of that night. They survived then and even scored a second goal and now, right at the death, in this final, they survived a scare as a Flamengo player shot the ball over when he could have scored.

Then the whistle went and we were all happy.

‘Champions of the World’ it sounded fantastic.

It was time to raid Davie’s fridge; grab a coke and celebrate!

23/12/19

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