The Gravy Train

The Gravy Train

Shrewsbury v Liverpool

FA Cup Fourth Round

26th of January, 2020.

I text Dave saying that I would maybe not be able to make it to watch the match with them and it was just as well.

Thank goodness for BBC, as the game was due to be shown live by them.

‘Can I have some more gravy please’ I asked the waitress, as I wanted to cover the half plate size home-made Yorkshire.

‘Me too’ pipped-up, Alan, my brother, adding, ‘well they did say, with lashings of gravy on the menu’.

It was a meal we were always going to go to and it seemed apt really, as my dad liked his food – a step-up from Morrisons where we had often gone, this time to a tidy place in Newport, off Cardiff Road instead.

Me and Alan, in our dad’s voice, could almost have said to Sheila, my dad’s late fiancee and her son Simon, ‘Have what you want’. Quite.

I didn’t look at my phone, so was not aware of the time but when the dessert menu came out, I had flicked a glance at Alan’s watch; there was an hour to kick-off.

Alan had fancied ice-cream but it was me who had the three flavoured ones and he ended-up with Eton Mess and it did look a state as well!

It was enjoyable and Sheila and Simon both stressed that we were and would always be a part of the family and welcome anytime. Lovely words. Dad would have been smiling from up on high.

Alan made it to mine with enough time to spare for me to make a cuppa and have some ‘After Eights’ by the side of me which I scoffed quickly – even after all that food! Greedy git!

No Davie, Deano, Carly, girls or Fudgy, it was old school watching Liverpool on my tod.

The Liverpool team for this FA Cup 4th Round tie against Shrewsbury, who sit 16^th in League Division One, was pretty much as I expected. Adrian in goal, Larouci at left back, Neco Williams at right back with a returning Joel Matip and Dejan Lovren – made captain, at centre half. In midfield was the rusty Fabinho, Curtis Jones and Pedro Chirivella. The front three consisted of Harvey Elliott – at 16 barely out of his nappies, Divock Origi and Minamino.

Shrewsbury, managed by former Swansea and Wales full back, Sam Ricketts, were a mystery to me. Everyone knew though that whatever 11 they put out; they would give everything.

Liverpool looked assured and passed the ball around as though it was a practice match. The all blue home team could hardly lay a glove on them.

It didn’t take long; the first goal.

A ball which cut into the defence, from the middle by Chirivella, and helped on by Minamino, found a galloping Jones who finished with the inside of his left foot, sweeping the ball past the left of O’Leary on its way in.

1-0 to the reds.

‘Yes!’ I shouted off course, sat on my own brown sofa now, having talked to the TV with the usual comments, as though the others were with me.

You would have thought that the reds had the job done. However, the home side soon had Adrian scrambling to save with an outstretched right hand.

It was a warning.

I can’t recall another reds effort as the home team took a grip on the game, if not the tie. They cranked-up the pressure and should have equalised before the break.

‘Tea Dai?’ I spoke out loud, as though in the Wheatstone mansion! This time I had to make it!

I busied myself and before I knew it, the game was back on as I had muted the TV – not interested in what the pundits had to say.

In the nick of time I looked-up and to my utter surprise, the home team had scored an own-goal, as the right back, Love, totally took his eye off the ball as it ghosted into the right of O’Leary’s net…

It was 2-0.

The scoreline was harsh on Shrewsbury.

‘Done and dusted’ Dean text.

‘Providing we don’t cock-up at the back’ I cautiously replied.

It was the kiss of death.

Shrewsbury were first to every ball. Fabinho was second. He wasn’t the only one though. The kids were doing well and the standout player for me was Curtis Jones – so assured on the ball and rarely gave possession away.

The home team brought Cummings on, ‘the Joker in the pack’ they called him. The joke was on Liverpool though; as they continued to be Bob Paisleys dreaded ‘c’ word – ‘complacent’.

All of a sudden, Cummings got in in goal, on the edge of the area and just as I had warned, could have shouted down the phone – like a line from a Stereophonics track, he got fouled.

Pen-al-tee!

As they showed the replay, I could have sworn the tackle was outside the area. No VAR, no second opinion.

The ball went to Adrian’s right.

Goal!

Game on, 1-2. Now the Beeb had the cup tie that they had wanted and didn’t they just love it.

It was all Shrewsbury. Only one team was going to score next.

The big guns were warning-up in the form of Mo Salah and Bobby Firmino. Klopp had stated that he did not want a replay.

Well, thanks to more shambolic defending from Lovren and to a lesser extent, Williams, Klopp got the replay, as Connelly went through and slotted a lovely low strike past the left of Adrian to make it 2-2.

I was not even shouting or near to tears – I just an air of inevitability and acceptance. Liverpool had been second best, sat back and had paid the price.

Hopefully it taught them a lesson – ‘Don’t be complacent’.

‘Shambolic’ Dean text. Quite.

Every red worth his salt knew that Shrewsbury should have won, as it is, for their sterling effort, they will go to Anfield in the replay, earn pots of cash and board the gravy train.

27/1/20

1021

A. Phillips.